Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own
by Cassiopiea86
Summary: After his misadventures with the Avengers, Loki is banished to another world, a world that he doesn't expect or understand. Once there he meets someone who is almost as scarred as he is, a man named Charlie. Can he help Charlie catch a killer? Can friendship and, just possibly, romance save them both? Rated M for upcoming slash and torture
1. Chapter 1

_Hi, thank for taking time to read this, it's much appreciated. So this is the first story that i have_ ever_ written. I'm a little bit scared putting it on here to be honest, but i'm enjoying it so much that I had to share! It might start a little slowly for some but I wanted to introduce Loki through someone elses eyes. This is set after the Avengers, after Loki is once again banished._

_Unfortunately I don't own Loki, The Avengers or Thor. Please forgive spelling mistakes and grammatical errors. Enjoy. XX  
_

The day dawned perfectly. The sky was clear, the air not to warm. It would be truly glorious later. A good day, I had thought, to be born into another world. But now sitting in the bushes in the middle of the forest and feeling the malevolent build up of energy all around me, I wasn't so convinced. This crossover felt different, wrong somehow. Gods, why did they only send two of us out here to deal with these things?

The thrum of magical energy suddenly deepened and the hairs on my arms rose. There was a massive flash of bright light near to where my friend Ray was waiting, hidden in his own bush. The thunderclap that came after reverberated through my chest. Instinct told me to draw my sword.

I heard Ray make a grunt of pain and then he was shouting, "Charlie, he's coming your way!"

I dashed out from my hiding place and tried to trip the man that ran past me. He turned, cat quick, and thrust the spear that he was holding at me, catching me below the eye and drawing blood. I was momentarily blinded by the pain but was quick enough to block his next jab with my sword. He caught my next parry in the trident shaped spearhead and we both twisted our weapons and pulled at the same time, the movement disarming us both.

I went to reach for my weapon, a stupid mistake, and his right hook caught me square in the jaw, making me stagger backwards a step. As he reached for his own weapon, I kicked out at him, catching him in the knee, and then I was on him, pushing him to the ground trying to punch at him in the small space that his arms allowed me. I had an image of black hair, pale skin and eyes a vivid and startling green before he managed to push me off. He managed to get on top of me and started to try to throttle me. This fight was now so much like a pub brawl that I laughed aloud, waiting for the moment when he started to insult my mother. I bucked him off and as I tried to rise, he dealt me a stinging slap across the face, catching me right on the place his spear had cut me. The world greyed for a moment.

Ray was there then, with the tip of his great sword pointed right at the man's throat.

"Ah," he said, raising his hands. "You appear to have the advantage of me."

"Took your bloody time didn't you?" I say to Ray, who just looks at me reproachfully.

I regained my sword and took up the other guy's spear as Ray bound him. The spear is a beautiful weapon. The shaft is wood carved with intricate runes, the head iron teased in to an ornate trident shape. Wiping blood from my face, I go and inspect our newest charge.

What I see before me is a man, I think. His smell is strange though, and he is still shrouded in the dark mist of another world. I have seen this before, of course, but never so dark. It is taking ages to dissipate. In addition, I am wondering how he managed to move so quickly after appearing.

We had people appearing from other worlds here quite often, and it was normal for them to be muddled and unable to stand. This man could both stand and fight in this worlds heavy atmosphere, and it spoke of one used to such travel.

He was now sitting on the ground and I went over to stare down at him.

"I'm sorry that thing's turned out this way," I say, as if it is my fault that he tried to stab me in the eye. "We don't usually do things this way." His eyes really are amazing, a bright, vibrant green and I find that I am having difficulty looking away.

"My name Is Charlie Lefevre and my friend here is Ray Wilding." I say this more to distract myself than out of politeness. He does not offer his name but he does nod slightly. Ah well, I think, I didn't even expect to get that much out of him. I leave Ray with him and go to fetch our horses.

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The ride back to town is uneventful. I notice that our green eyed friend also rides pretty well considering that he is bound to the pommel of the saddle. He has a sure and quiet seat and the horse responds easily to his commands. He does not try to escape.

My face is hurting pretty bad once we get back to town and Ray is insisting that I get my wound looked at. Half my face is covered in blood and my shirt is stained too. We make it to Arber castle and Ray takes the other guy off to our wing while I go to see the physician, Guy.

"It's going to need stitching," he says firmly.

I laugh softly. "There won't even be a mark next week."

"And if we wait till then, I'm sure you'll bleed to death." His eyes sparkle with his familiar good humour. "Let's get to it."

While he is stitching me up, I try to think about our new friend to distract myself from the pain. He had fought viciously, but had calmed down pretty quickly once we had the advantage over him. I had thought that maybe he was waiting for something, some window of opportunity before he tried for escape. I had no illusions that he would try to escape.

His clothes were well made but worn. He looked as if he had been in them for some time. The only thing that had really stood out was his cloak, a dark colour that was not truly black on the outside and a deep, forest green on the inside. He looked very otherworldly, with is raven black hair and pale skin. On the ride back I had had difficulty not staring at him.

The stitching is done and Guy hands me a clean shirt. His eyes roam over the scars on my shoulder as they always do, and sadness briefly flashes in his eyes. Feeling guilty, I quickly pull the shirt down. His whole family were killed by werewolves a few years ago. I try not to remind him of it but sometimes I forget. The scars are surprisingly the easiest things to forget about.

Guy's assistant comes in, barely able to breathe from running. He takes a few moments and then hands me a note. On it, written in Ray's rather elegant hand is:

Things have gone bad with our new arrival,

Please come at once.

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When I get back, I find absolutely no one in our main rooms of work. Making my way down to the small dungeon, I hear raised voices. They are all standing around in the corridor. Ray walks down to me and takes my arm.

"What's going on?" I ask, studying his pained expression.

"We had a bit of a problem with him." He nods down towards the cell where our new friend must be. "Some of the men of the garrison….sort of…well, beat him up a bit."

"What? Why? What the hell would they have against him? He's only been here five minuets!"

"Well, he set one of them alight." He looks uncomfortable. I just gape at him. "With magic," he says at last.

"Impossible," I say, turning to Percy to make sure.

Everyone in this world has magical potential, but it depends on your strength of will and mind as to weather you have the capacity to wield it. This magical potential takes time to build up too, years in fact. I have been here five years and can just about do a small fire casting without killing myself in the process.

"He managed it Charlie. It did leave him almost completely drained though; he couldn't defend himself when the others attacked him. I think he was expecting a different outcome." Percy is our go to man when it comes to magic. If I was magically on the bottom of the food chain, this guy was definitely somewhere near the top. He was one of the highest initiates of magic on the planet and had been sent to us as a punishment, for doing something rather naughty. I had never heard the full story but I gather that it involved a foreign princess of ill repute. I don't think he was too upset about his new station; he had stayed here for three years.

Jim, our resident vampire, stands down by the cell. I walk down there and peer in. The green eyes regard me coolly. His right eye is black and his lip is split. He has another large bruise on his left jaw.

I look at Ray incredulously. "I thought you said he was beaten a bit? He looks like a fucking rainbow!" He just shrugs and retreats back down the hall.

"He say's that his name is Loki," Jim says from beside me. I look at him and see something in his expression.

"You know him?"

"I know _of_ him, yes. He's part of my world's myths and legends. He was a god." He smiles, almost fondly I think. A good memory then.

"So he's the good guy?" I hedge. Jim looks at me like I'm an idiot. "What was he the god of?" I think to ask.

"Mischief," Jim says quietly. I snort laughter but stop quickly when I see his face. "He's a trickster, a thief. He's done some truly terrible things."

I shake my head, not really liking where this is going. "So maybe he's just named for the god or something." Jim looks at me in that way he has, willing me to figure it out for my self. As he stalks away, I look at Loki, really look at him. God he may have been, but all I see is a battered and bruised man. Jim's wisdom does not stop me from continuing as I had planned.

I enter the cell and stand with my back to the wall opposite from where Loki is sitting.

"Mr Lefevre," he says nodding slightly.

"Make it Charlie, please. It's Loki isn't it?" Another nod.

I know that I should apologise to him, say something consoling, anything really. I open my mouth and nothing comes out. How many more times am I going to have to apologise to him.

Seeming to realise this he says, "Don't worry, it's not the first time I've been beaten at the hands of stupid, small minded men." He says the word _men_ as if he dose not consider him self one.

"Charlie," says Ray, from outside the bars. I step over and he hands me a folded paper. The words on it make my heart sink.

"There's been another one," I say, looking up to Ray and pleading with my eyes. He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry Charlie; you know that I can't come with you on this one. I have matters of my own to attend too." He gives me another look of apology, and then leaves.

I stand facing the bars, the paper crumpled in my hand, and fret. How was I going to make sure that this man in my care didn't get beaten to death while I was gone? How was I supposed to do my investigative work on my own, speaking to witnesses and documenting the crime scene?

I turn around and he is standing right there behind me. I manage not to jump, but it's a pretty close thing. I suddenly realise how tall he is, almost a head taller than me. Sighing, I rub a hand over my eyes. Then the answer comes to me.

"I need to leave, I have an errand to run," I say, noting the fleeting look of fear flash across his face. He knows what will happen if I leave him here alone.

"Don't worry," I say. "You're coming with me."


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey, thank you so much guy's for reading and reviewing my first chapter! _

_Also, a big thankyou to animegirl 19791 (My epic friend) for recommending me!  
_

_This is the next installment of the saga, which sees Loki get caught up in helping a murder investigation, and also getting a little closer to our friend Charlie! Hope you enjoy and once again, thank you for reading! XXX  
_

_ I still don't own Loki, Thor or the avengers. :(  
_

I stand gazing up at the hanged woman. Her feet dangle inches from the ground. She would have been beautiful once, quite stunning, but the manner of her death has robbed her of that beauty. Where her eyes would have been there is only darkness and broken flesh. Her blood has been drained and her skin is now white. She is still clothed, mostly.

Things start to blur together for me, as they always do on these things. People come and go, offering advise, blaming. At one point the father comes over, his face large and red. He pokes a red sausage finger at my chest.

"It's you that's done this," he says, "You and your kind!" He is dragged away so that he can be with his wailing wife.

Johnny, the village's inn keeper and a good friend, comes over to stand with me for a while. He is also from another world and has been here for a long time, longer than me. I feel relieved; at least I can get some sensible information now.

"Who was she Johnny?"

"The blacksmith's daughter, just sixteen and due to marry later in the year."

"Gods, it's always the same," I say, more to myself than to him.

"It's the same vampire?" He asks.

"I'm pretty sure, but obviously we're going to need to look closer." Eventually he leaves too.

My only constant is Loki, who patiently stands off to one side, waiting for me to get my shit together. He may have a long wait. He too is gazing at the body. I'm not sure if I find his lack of expression comforting or disturbing.

Handing him a notebook and a pencil, I instruct him on the next part.

"I need you to map the scene," I say. "Stay here and take in what you can. Note down anything you find strange."

I leave him there, sure that he will for fill this task. As I walk towards the body I close my eyes, letting the scents become my vision. This is always so much easier in wolf week, before the transformation, when my senses are on the rise.

The scents flow around me in a broad spectrum of colour. I note them all down for reference later and continue hunting. I know what I am looking for.

Soon enough I find it, on the trunk of the tree. The scent is red and to me it almost looks like a bloody hand print. I give a small sigh of relief, knowing it is the same man as before. This was his calling card, a smear of scent. He knows that a Lyco is on his trail and a good thing too, for he leaves absolutely no other trace of himself at the scene or on the body. We are going to have to take her for examination anyway, just in case.

I take out my other notebook and write down my observations. Loki's voice comes from behind me. Right behind me. How the hell does he move so quietly?

"Have you found what you were looking for?"

Putting my thoughts back in order I say, "Yes, it have. It's The Count."

As a joke the others and I had started to call this killer Count Cliché, on account of the type of women he killed. They had all been young and beautiful. It was like trying to work in Bram Stoker's Dracula.

Loki hands me his work and I find myself looking at a masterpiece. What I see on the page before me is a truly beautiful, Davinci-esque diagram of the scene. There are little notations of to the side to explain things further where needed.

I must have been staring for longer than I had intended because he asks, "Is it not what you required?"

"No. Yes, um…It's fine." Fine? I'm seriously considering hanging it in an art gallery when we get back.

I sigh loudly. Now comes the hard part.

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I sit in the inns main room, shot of rum in hand, and stare into the fire. The inn was basically empty, except for Loki and I and a few desperate, heartbroken people. A death in the village does not make for good business.

Looking back on the afternoon I realise that, thanks to Loki, it was not as much of a balls up as it could have been.

On the ride over here I had taken some time explaining about vampires, werewolves, magic, magicians and why humans considered us to be outside their race. I had conveniently forgotten to tell him that I am a werewolf, but when the accusations started flying about my 'kind', he caught on pretty quick. He knew that I was not a vampire.

The villagers did not want to speak to me. The constable insisted that he had done the interrogations. I got frustrated trying to explain to him that we needed some thing a little different than what had already been done.

And then Loki was there, taking over smoothly, using his calm and mellow voice to try and get across what we needed. It had all gone swimmingly after that. I realise that I probably should have been annoyed at him overriding me but, well, it got the job done.

I wonder what kind of man he had been. He had handled the villagers so well, so diplomatically.

I look over to where he is sitting in the chair opposite me and consider asking him. He is staring into the fire intently, as I had been doing. Swallowing the last of my rum, I decide to get more drinks and have a bit of a think about it. Maybe I shouldn't ask, thinking back to what Jim said about the terrible things that he has supposedly done. Maybe I don't want to know the answer.

I walk back to the fireplace and hand him his drink. Our fingers brush lightly as he takes it and his eyes flick upwards to meet mine.

Suddenly I feel flustered and blurt out, "So what were you, before, you know, all this." I wave my hand vaguely in the air, probably looking like the village idiot, and quickly take a seat.

He is silent for so long that I think he won't answer; he is just staring into the fire.

Eventually, he moves, as if waking from a long sleep. He sits forward with his elbows resting on his knees and shifts his gaze to me. It is a lazy gesture, like the question has bored him, but there is something underneath it, something uncomfortable.

"Let's just say that I've fallen rather a long way," He says quietly and looks back at the fire.

I look at his regal profile. The fire light has made the bruises disappear and it also makes him look younger, less care worn. I take in the black lashes, the black hair swept back from his face and the long fingered, elegant hands.

I think about his bearing, the general way that he holds himself, like the world owes him something. Also I think of princes, and just maybe, of Gods, and find that I am inclined to believe him.

"This life kind of suits you though," I say without really thinking. I get a small smile in return, and I think it's the first time I have seen him do so. A small smile, a small victory, I think to myself.

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The next few days pass quickly. The hearse had bought the body of the woman back to the town for Guy to examine. It is not really his job, but then, there is no one else to do it. We need to know if the Count left any traces of himself this time.

Loki and I head back to Arden after more investigations and interrogations at the village. Our findings are limited and the interrogations bring us nothing. Nobody saw or heard a thing.

Once back in town, Guy tells us the same thing. His examinations have proved nothing, except that she died from blood loss. Strangely enough, I had figured that one out for myself.

On the morning of the full moon I receive a letter from an inspector from the town of Kaelyn ten miles away. It appears that he may have some new leads. Conveniently, there is a place along the road where I can go to transform without being disturbed.

I decide to leave as soon as I can. I take a little time figuring out how to make Loki stay here when Percy comes to tell me that Loki has already made the decision for me.

"He attempted magic again Charlie," he says, almost apologetically.

"What? Is he ok?"

"He'll live. He's exhausted though. I've put him to bed."

"Can you make sure he stays here, away from the others, and the dungeons?" I ask him. We had five other werewolves, including Ray, who used our dungeons to transform in. It meant that the others could regulate their activities, and make sure there were no casualties.

"Of course I can. I don't think he's going anywhere in a hurry."

"And maybe you could teach him a little about magic while I'm gone, stop him from killing himself." He smiles at the idea of this. He does love to teach.

I don't go and check on Loki before I leave. For some reason that I don't understand, as I ride away, I feel a bit guilty about this.

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The place that I choose to transform in is an abandoned castle in what would have been the village of Lyre before it was burned to the ground.

Only three walls remain, and luckily, so do the dungeons. I had taken to calling this place Castellans Dungeon, on account of the word castellan being written on the wall down here in blood red paint. The way it moves in my torchlight makes it look as if the wall is bleeding.

I set the torch in the wall sconce outside the cell furthest from the door. I take off my sword belt and long coat and lay them on the table against the wall. I take my time removing the rest of my clothes, trying to lengthen my breaths and calm myself.

Locking myself in the cell, I then attach the key to a piece of string and tie the other end around one of the bars and throw it as far into the corridor as I can. I don't think the beast will ever figure out how to open the cell, but it pays to be on the safe side.

I sit on the cold stone floor, alone, and wait for the wolf to come.

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I wake slowly in the soft grey morning light, the same as I do every month. I stretch, trying to rid myself of the terrible dreams, trying to stop myself shaking. I suddenly realise something is wrong, that I'm covered with a green and black cloak. Just then Loki's voice comes from the other side of the bars.

"Do you realise how much danger you have put yourself in?"

Danger? As he opens the cage I rise, covering myself with his cloak as best as I can. I really need to get a look at his face, to see if he is joking. He is not, I can tell. He just looks angry.

"Danger? To me?" I say, incredulous. "Did you happen to miss seeing the creature that I turn into?"

He sneers, a look which makes my flesh crawl.

"All it would have taken was a spear. You would have thrown yourself onto it in your haste to get to its wielder! If they didn't get you then, they only needed to wait for you to turn back, when you apparently end up in some kind of coma. I spent ages trying to wake you."

I'm not sure where he gets off being so angry, and my own anger rises to meet his.

As I say, "You followed me?" I find that it's just a small hop, skip and a jump into full blown rage. The next thing I say comes out in a shout that I can't control.

"_How dare you follow me?_ I specifically left you behind for your own safety! And then you come here, without my invitation. I thought you would have taken this opportunity to leave us. But no, you decide you would come here and let me kill you instead!"

He smiles at that, and it's no better than the sneer.

"Tell me exactly how you would have achieved that, after you put yourself so _carefully_ away," he spits at me.

Before I shout a reply I take a look at myself. I'm sweating, shaking, ranting and trying very hard to keep myself covered with my borrowed cloak to save myself further embarrassment. This is the first time in years that anyone has seen me so soon after a re-transformation.

Gods, how pathetic I must look. This thought only enrages me further.

I open my mouth to shout and he slaps me, open handed and hard, across the face. My thought scatter, but I manage to hold on to one, the only one that really matters to me.

Glaring at him, I choke the question out in a malicious whisper. "Why didn't you just leave while you had the chance?"

For a moment I think that he will do this exact thing. Then his expression softens quickly, shockingly. It was like plunging ones feet into cold water on a hot day. It certainly serves to cool me down.

He steps back from me a little; we had been almost nose to nose. He pauses briefly, thinking.

"Where would I go?" He asks, simply. I have no answer for him and we just look at each other quietly for a while.

Slowly, carefully, he reaches out his hand and lays his fingers on my smooth cheek; on a place that only a few hours before had held his spear wound.

"Like it never happened," he mutters, fascination replacing any expression that had been on his face before hand.

Never taking his eyes from mine, he slowly moves his fingers down my face, rasping over stubble until they come to a rest at the corner of my mouth. When he runs the ball of his thumb across my lower lip, I grab his wrist and pull his hand roughly away. The sensation is too much.

My breathing had grown ragged and I feel faint. As I pass into unconsciousness, I can still feel his pulse under my fingers, beating in time with my own heart.


	3. Chapter 3

_Right, once again thankyou for reading and reviewing._

_I have had so much trouble with this chapter, and I am still not positive about how I feel about it, but it is important! Decided to give the guys a break, let them have a little fun for this chapter. I had been to Headingham Castle last weekend to see the jousting and had bullied some poor man there into telling me all about swords ect and got the idea of a medieval fair. :)  
_

_ I apologise for any OOCness on Loki's part.  
_

_I don't own Loki, Thor or The Avengers.  
_

_EnjoyXXX  
_

After our moment in The Castellans Dungeon, things between Loki and I did not end up as awkward as I had expected them to. Instead, a tentative friendship has begun. Where it might lead us, I can not know.

There is part of me, and not really a small part, that wants to try to recreate that moment. But remembering just how long it has been since I had any kind of human touch, and my need for such a thing, has almost overshadowed my reasons for keeping all of that kind of stuff at bay in the first place. Would I really risk this man's life just for my own need for comfort? No, I would not, I must not.

Once I am able, we leave Lyre, but not before I find Loki a decent sword. They had had some of the best sword smiths in the land at this place, and I know where the armoury is hidden.

I leave him in the main street and go on the hunt. It takes me a little while but eventually I find it. It looks a plain thing except for the four jewels in the hilt which are a green that exactly matches his eyes.

When I present it to him I can tell by the look on his face that it's been quite some time since he received a gift. I watch as he draws it almost silently, checks the balance and runs his hand over the jewels in the hilt.

He looks at me in wonder and says softly: "A fine gift."

We carry on to Kaelyn at a relatively slow pace and it's not long before Ray comes up behind us at a gallop. I had been expecting this. He glances briefly at Loki and asks if I am alright.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I ask, knowing perfectly well what he means.

"We thought that you had scarpered." Ignoring my question he turns, aiming his own question at Loki. "Percy said that you just disappeared in the middle of the night."

I catch him glance at Loki's reclaimed spear, at the new sword at his hip. Ray's eyes are bright with mistrust.

"You need to have a little more faith in me," Loki says. Ray does not reply.

The rest of the journey is rather unpleasant after that. Ray seethes in the saddle while I try to come up with things to say and fail. Loki, as usual, is unreadable.

The road gets busier as we near the town. I suddenly realise that the fair must be on and my heart lightens a little. Kaelyn's fair was beyond comparison and people came from miles around to sample it.

When we get to the town, Ray, none too discreetly, takes me aside to give me a lecture on the million reasons why I should not trust this guy. I can tell that Ray had asked Jim what he knows about Loki, and that Jim had, as usual, imparted his knowledge in the form of riddles. Half way through this lecture, I get fed up and interrupt him.

"Stop this Ray. Can you not just let me handle this?"

He grips my forearm in one meaty hand. "Charlie, we've looked out for each other for a long time. You don't know this guy; you don't know what he's capable of. I'm just trying to do you a favour."

"And who's going to do him a favour?" I ask, nodding in Loki's direction. Ray sighs disgustedly.

"Maybe he doesn't need one Charlie! You just have this bloody stupid hero complex where you have to help everyone! You're a good fighter, and usually you're a good judge of character too, but I'm pretty sure that this is gonna get you killed." With that he marches away.

I feel too shocked to move. Does he really think that I have a hero complex? It had been his idea in the first place, all those years ago, to come here and help those who were in a similar situation to us.

I wish that he had been allowed to retort. I could have told him that my helping Loki had nothing to do with heroism. It was just that sometimes, as we well knew ourselves, you can't make it on your own.

Loki and I head up to the castle to find Inspector Aldridge. We are led into the reception hall and told to wait while the steward goes to fetch him.

Glancing at Loki, I see a strange, lost look in his eyes and I feel a little guilty, knowing that he must have overheard me and Ray talking. Before I can say anything to him about it, the Inspector finds us.

"Charlie, it's good to see you again," he says as he shakes my hand.

I make Loki's introduction and then ask, "What do you have for us?"

"It's not much really. They've seen this killer before, over at Fulton, long before either of us was born. It's all the same pattern. They sent us a few bits of their evidence, old notebooks and the like."

"Have you checked through them? Why didn't you just send them straight on to Arber?"

"This is your investigation; you know what you're looking for with this. As for the other thing, well, I know how you work. You're going to end up getting fixated on this thing, blinding yourself from it. I thought that while the fair is in town you could relax a bit."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"You do still play the fiddle don't you?"

I leave it at that, knowing that he is right. I can feel a tension in my shoulders from my constant worrying. A night of music and frivolity might be just the thing I need. I can come back here tomorrow and do what needs to be done.

We head back out into the town I can feel Loki's eyes on me.

"What?" I ask

"You play the fiddle?" He is smiling a little at the idea of this.

"Yes, don't sound so surprised! My talents do lie in places other than bungling murder investigations."

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We spend the rest of the day wandering the fair, and the evening sees us at a band stage outside one of the towns many pubs.

By now I've retrieved my fiddle from my saddle bag and I get invited up to join the band. I have actually played with these guys before, at the last fair. I feels good to be up here again.

We are given free drinks, which are filled up as soon as there empty. I make sure that Loki gets a drink every time that I do. All through out my playing, I can feel his eyes on me, and in the end I'm playing just for him.

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After I finish my set and after the band has managed to find another fiddler, I set off to find Loki. I actually have no idea where he is at this stage, and on my random wanderings I am accosted by several women who want me to dance with them. I turn all of them down gently but firmly. Getting fed up; I go and secure some drinks.

When I do find Loki, I see that an odd but not unpleasant change has happened. His hair is tousled, there is bright colour in his cheeks and his eyes gleam with a playful intensity. When he gives me his smile it is wide and genuine. I suddenly realise just how beautiful he is.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, noting my regard.

"That I should get you drunk more often."

"I'm not drunk," he says indignantly.

"Of course not." I hand him his drink and walk off in a random direction. "Come on, I need to find somewhere quieter."

"An impossibility," he says, as he strides past me and rounds a corner. I widen my stride to catch up with him, but when I turn the corner, he isn't there.

"Ah, come on, that's not fair," I say aloud. "Show off!"

I start to wander a slightly weaving path down the alley, and hear his low chuckle. I have no idea where it is coming from. "Oi, where are you," I stage whisper into the darkness.

I get about half way down the alley before I hear him laugh again, from right behind me. Taking hold of my hand he pulls me into the stables and I go willingly, finding his playfulness catching.

Inside the building, the sound from the street has all but disappeared. I smile at him, saying, "See, nothing's impossible."

Still holding onto his hand, I walk us a bit deeper into the stables. I close my eyes, letting the warm smell of horses fill me up. I love being in here, somehow it reminds me of home.

He puts his free hand on my shoulder, stopping me going any further. I turn to see that his expression had grown a bit more serious.

"Why do you trust me Charlie?" he asks, seemingly out of the blue. "None of the others do, so why do you?"

I think about a couple of sensible replies, and settle for telling him the truth. It's not easy, but I manage it.

"I don't know, but….someone has too."

"But why was it you, of all…" He shakes his head and changes track. "Do you think that I'm worth saving?" He says it softly, hesitantly, while avoiding my gaze.

Unfortunately, I'm still feeling boisterous and say loudly while trying to draw my sword: "Who do you need saving from? Let me at them!"

Luckily, my elbow hits the wall, stalling my draw. Loki covers my mouth with his hand.

"Sshh, keep it down, fool," he says, laughing slightly.

"Who do you need saving from?" I ask from under his fingers, in a whisper.

"From myself," he whispers back, and pushes me back into the wall firmly.

There is a hunger in his eyes now, and my own hunger answers his fully. The alcohol has thrown my usual caution to the wind, and when he kisses my neck, I don't stop him. He follows the line of my jaw, and then gently, gently, he puts his lips to mine.

The kiss is exquisite.

I bury one of my hands in his hair, put the other on his hip and pull him towards me, so that we are chest to chest. His intensity deepens and he leans even further into me, crushing me into the wall. My nose is filled with the scent of his lust.

It has been so very long since I was this close with someone, and in this moment I want him so much that it causes an almost physical ache.

He puts his hands underneath my shirt. As his cool fingers touch my warm skin, I draw in a breath through my teeth and pull back from him slightly.

Just then, Ray finds us. He bursts into the stables, slurs something that sounds vaguely like my name, and then falls flat on his face.

Loki and I glance at each other and then burst out laughing. As ever, when something inappropriate strikes me as funny, I find it impossible to stop laughing.

Loki, ever the sensible one, says, "He may be dead."

"He's not dead! Can't you hear him snoring?!"

We decide to try and move him though, just in case he chokes or something. We get him half way into one of the stalls and then give up, he's just too heavy. I cover him with straw and hope that he does not get trodden on by horses.

Still giggling, Loki and I stumble back out into the ally, and I pull him into another kiss. He leans into me and buries his face in my neck.

"I need to sleep," he says against my skin.

"It has been a very long day."

It takes us a little while to find the inn, and once there I make sure he gets to bed safely. Finding myself unable to move any further, I climb into the bed beside him and we fall asleep in each others arms.

0000000000000

The next morning, I wake from an awful nightmare to the sound of someone hammering on the door. The sheets have tangled around me and it takes a little while for me to free myself.

"I'll be right there!" I shout to the persistent knocker. When I stumble from the bed, I find that I am still wearing my boots and that at sometime in the night, I had obviously decided to lock the door.

When I open it, I find Inspector Aldridge standing in the hall, looking pale and shaky.

"There's been another one Charlie, the bloody bastard was here!"

"What?" I peer at him blearily. My head is throbbing and I can not seem to take in what he is saying.

"Some of the fair-goers found a young woman hanging in a tree just outside the town. You have to come down now."

"Ok, Aldridge, ok," I say, and he leaves to go about his business.

I go back into the room to wake Loki and find him moving restlessly on the bed, caught up in his own nightmare. I put a hand to his shoulder and he wakes, suddenly and with such ferocity and hate in his eyes that I am taken aback.

"Charlie?" He asks, groggily, coming fully out of his dream.

"Yeah, it's ok. You were just dreaming."

"What's going on?" He rubs his hand wearily over his face.

"Another murder. Come on, we've got work to do."

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter. _

_The next chapter is going to be from Loki's point of view, and unfortunatley, we are going to be swiching back to ice for a little while. (Well, he isn't Loki without it)  
_

_I will update as soon as possible. XX  
_


	4. Chapter 4

_As I said at the end of the last chapter, this one is from Loki's point of view and I'm hoping to keep it this way from now on. I had to introduce their world through Carlie's eyes, and cover things that Loki wouldn't know about._

_Thanks for sticking with it and I hope you enjoy this chapter. I apologise for anything out of character with Loki. X  
_

I watch as Charlie rises and walks towards me, an elderly look on his young face. His dark eyes are haunted.

"There's nothing. Nothing except the scent. All these people have obliterated everything that we might have found useful. It was damp last night. We may have had a foot print, but now…" He trails of and waves a hand, taking in the scene of devastation and trampled ground around us. "It looks like they drove a heard of bloody cows through here!"

His eyes roam to the face of the hanged woman, as they had been, often, during the last hour. Hers was a face that I recognised from last night. She had been dancing with her lad, and had turned massive blue eyes and a shy smile on me as I had passed them by. Where those eyes had been, there was now nothing but darkness.

I turn my gaze away from her. "What is that?" I ask, pointing at the creature leering at us from a few yards away. Charlie smirks a little at my choice of words.

"His name is Roxbury. He's another werewolf and he's supposed to be helping me with this. The gods only know how though, he can barely string two sentences together. How's he supposed to make any more sense of this than me?"

"Ah, the runt of the litter then."

Charlie smiles at that, but quickly turns serious again. "I can't believe he was here," he says in a hopeless whisper. "We're never going to catch this guy. He's having too much fun playing games with us."

"If it were a game, he would leave you clues. It's pointless otherwise."

He hands me his note book and gives me a hint with his eyes. The book is thicker than it had been when I had handed it to him earlier.

I feel a sudden pressure inside my chest, the place where this new magic seems to come from, and my hands shake. I know I need to leave here soon.

"What do you need?" I ask Charlie.

"To be a million miles from here," he says, once more gazing at the girl in the tree.

Putting my hand to his shoulder, I give a gentle pressure. "What do you need of _me_?"

He glances at the notebook and then at my face. His deep brown eyes are cloudy with uncertainty for a moment and then they clear.

"Perhaps you should recover that old evidence from Aldridge, have a look through it. There's nothing more for you to do here."

The creature Roxbury chooses this moment to come over to us. He looses a pathetic excuse for a glare at me and says "Runnin away are ya?"

Ignoring this I turn to Charlie, who nods slightly. Clearly he is prepared to brave this wave of idiocy himself.

I return his nod and head back towards the castle, through the crowds that the town militia are struggling to keep back from the crime scene. The humans are standing in the soft rain, hemmed in like cattle, trying to get a look at the dead woman. This does nothing to stall my contempt for them; they really would do anything for a show.

As I walk along, I run my thumb over the jewels in the hilt of the gifted sword, something that feels like it is to become habit. I try to make haste without actually running, but it is difficult. A few people glance at me warily as I hurry past them.

Once in the room that had been assigned to us, I lock the door, throw my cloak over the back of the chair, the note book on the table and fall to my knees in front of the fireplace. I am shaking violently now. I close my eyes tightly, knit my brows together and think of fire while holding my hands towards the middle of the fireplace. I have to be careful; it would not do to burn the castle down.

I feel the tendrils of magical energy leaving my heart and gathering in my palms. With it goes my strength and I am glad that I have chosen to kneel, fearing another painful crash to the ground. I manage to send the red writhing ball of magic straight into the kindling, setting the fire, and then cut the magic off before I do myself too much damage. Still, it leaves me too weak to stand.

I lay myself before the fire on the cold stone floor and once again consider how strange my circumstances have become. After my trial, I had been told that I would be banished to a world with no hope of ever being able to return to Asgard or any of the nine realms. I had been stripped of my magic, painfully, and it had left a deep, cavernous void within me.

Once on this world, which Charlie called Edolie, a new type of magic had begun to fill that void like water, spilling over once I was too full, leaving me weak and helpless and unable to do anything but try and use it, to drain myself of it. All I had managed so far were fire castings and I had accidentally set fire to one of the guardsmen in Arber within my first few hours here.

I also find strange my luck of finding Charlie, or rather, of him finding me. What were the chances of me finding someone like him, a man who was lost, alone and outside the race of humans? He was a man who knew things that were important, and would ensure my survival here. The creature that he turned into was a wild beast, something made up entirely of hate and rage and a desperate need to kill. It was the opposite of Charlie in human form, who was honourable, honest and unfailingly kind. The fact that he could only become the wolf once a month was unfortunate. A beast like that could be used, as I well know.

It does not take me long to recover this time, and soon I am able to go and examine Charlie's clue. It appears to be a piece of thin paper, folded over twice. Unfolding it, I find that it is covered in some kind of runes, or some language that I can not understand. It almost looks like pictures.

There is a knock at the door. I open it to find Aldridge standing in the hallway with the box that he had shown us yesterday, clutched in his hands. I step back to admit him into the room without a word.

"I saw that you had come back," he says, laying the box on the table. "Is Charlie still out there?"

"Yes, making sure that things get seen to properly."

"Good, I was hoping to tell you this, so that you could talk some sense into him."

I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

"Fulton sent me some more stuff. They also sent me a pretty detailed letter about this investigation…from their end…um." He quickly hands me the letter.

"You've read it?" I ask, taking the paper from the envelope. I not only find the letter, but also detailed pictures. Horrifically detailed pictures. "What is this?"

"That one," He says, indicating one particular picture, "Is what was left of the last investigator of this particular killer." His choice of wording is very apt. 'What was left' indeed, I think.

"Maybe, I don't know, we can convince him to stop looking into it."

I look at him, unable to believe what I am hearing. "How can you say that? You, the Inspector? If Charlie stops looking into this, it is not going to stop this man from killing."

"It might stop him from…usi.. killing Charlie though. Just read it, look through this stuff." With that, he leaves. I'm sure that he meant to say 'using'.

I disregard this for now and read the letter. It details traps left by the killer specifically designed to get the investigators away from safety and on their own. They disappear after that, to be found in the way that the pictures depict, weeks afterwards. I commit it all to memory and then burn the lot, wondering just what Charlie has got himself involved with.

I start to go through the evidence in the box, and have just found another piece of paper, like the one found earlier, when Charlie walks in. The paper is carefully hidden in my pocket before he even takes a seat.

He sits in the chair opposite me, leans across the table and lays his head on his forearms. Before I can speak he looks up at me suspiciously.

"You know," he says carefully, "You're going to have to get Percy to show you how to use your magic."

"What?" I say, unbelievingly. "How did you know?"

"I can smell it, and it's like static, it makes the hairs on my arms rise." He shows me, looking pleased with himself.

So much for me hiding that from him then, I think. "Percy can show me how to use it?"

He looks at me with concern. "Oh, yes. Are you ok?"

"Yes, of course," I say, although in truth, now that I'm here with him alone, I feel more than a little trepidation. I have a feeling that he is going to try to bring up last nights activities in conversation, and I am lost as to how to handle it.

For now he just rests his head back on a forearm and uses his free hand to mess up his dark brown hair.

"It went well then?" I ask. "I trust that Roxbury is still alive?"

"Ah, well, that's the problem isn't it? I don't think that he was alive to start with. What have you found in there?" he asks, indicating the box on the table.

"Nothing new." I stand and walk back to the fire place. Another thought occurs, and I half turn back to him. "What were you, in your world?" I hadn't paid much mind to this so far, but I am curious now.

"How can you tell that this isn't what I've always been?" He looks a little confused at my change of subject.

"The deaths haunt you too much. It's almost as if you consider yourself personally responsible for each one."

He smiles a little sadly at that and says quietly, "I was at university. They don't exactly train you to deal with horrible vampire deaths while you're studying literature. The only reason that I have to deal with it now is because I'm a werewolf, and the humans won't deal with this stuff on their own."

He rises and comes to stand with me by the fireplace. His eyes are far away and lost as he gazes into the fire.

"There are going to be a lot more death's before this thing is over." He looks at me then, imploringly, and steps towards me, reaching out. I put my hand on his chest, stopping him from coming too close. I am suddenly afraid of this, and as ever, my fear comes out in sharpness.

Taking hold of my wrist, he says, "Loki, about last night.."

"What happened between us last night was regrettable," I interrupt him, looking away. "It won't be happening again." When I do look back at him, I am completely unprepared for what his hurt expression will do to me. Guilt rises in my throat like bile and I push him away from me, more roughly than I had intended. When my hand leaves his chest, it becomes deathly cold.

"What?...Loki.." He reaches for me again and I strike his hand away.

"You heard me."

He stares disbelievingly for a few moments and then, gathering his things, including the clue, he leaves without a further word. I fight an absurd but strong urge to call him back and apologise.

Running my hand through my hair I sigh shakily. "Damn."

00000000000000000

"You can't do it like that. It's costing you too much energy," Percy says, looking at me thoughtfully.

"Really? I hadn't guessed," I say, putting as much sarcasm into the words as possible. I am sitting slumped in a chair in the corner of my room, breathing heavily, sweating profusely and feeling more sullen by the second. "Show me how I am supposed to be doing it then!"

He seems unfazed by my obvious annoyance. He also seems unfazed by the weather. The close humidity has got everyone, except this eternally calm man, in a fighting mood.

For the last week since our return to Arber, it has been almost impossible to sleep at night, and I'm feeling frayed around the edges, as well as extremely frustrated with my lack of magical progress. I had expected to be a lot further along with it by now, after I had put so much effort into it.

Percy shows me his empty palms. "You can't just create it; you have to breathe it out of you. Like this." He breathes fine tendrils of energy into his hands, creating a Light casting which glows briefly and then goes out. I had watched him do this a thousand times since being back from Kaelyn, but was no nearer to actually achieving it myself. I try it again to no avail, and the Fire casting just appears in my hands without me breathing it out.

I fling it away from me, disgusted with it and it makes a small explosion on the floor. Percy does not even flinch. Instead he hunkers down, something which cannot be easy at his age, and looks me directly in the eye.

" At least it's not draining you so much now." He sighs, heavily. "It takes people years and years of magical study to be able to do even half of what you have already done."

"I should not have to learn something that I have been able to do my whole life. Leave me," I say suddenly, tiring of his exercises, his encouragements and most of all, of his patience.

He rises and smiles at me benevolently. "Well, I do have another student to deal with. One last thing before I go. The fact that you have done this before might explain a few things. It's almost as if you are trying to keep hold of the magic, by creating it in your hands. Really, it's more like letting go of it, by breathing it out."

He leaves the room and Charlie enters. "I need to speak to you," he says to me.

"And I need some time alone. We can't always get what we want."

"You're in a good mood today then," He says jovially. Charlie seems to be another man with endless patience, luckily. It had not taken him long to recover from my lashing out at him, and he was soon back to his half jokey, half worried self. The heat does affect him as much as it does me though and he looks just as frayed as I feel. He is constantly trying to pull his wet shirt away from his sweat soaked body and had tied his hair back with a thong, to keep it off of his neck.

"I reckon it's going to storm later," he says.

"You have been saying that for the last three days."

"Wishful thinking. Anyway, I really need you to have a look at this. I can't make head or tail of it. Is it some kind of language do you think?" He holds out the paper that he had found at Kaelyn. It is the first time that he has even mentioned it since our dispute.

"I didn't get a chance to look at it," I lie easily. "Leave it with me and I'll see."

"Ok. I'm driving myself nuts by constantly looking at it. I've got to go back to helping Ray. I'll see you later then."

As soon as he leaves I retrieve the other paper. I have had an idea as to what they could be and laying them one on top of the other; I see that I was right. Flattening them against each other, I see that they do indeed form a picture. It looks like a castle.

"He first draws them away from safety," I say aloud, softly. I wonder what this place holds for Charlie, what reasons he would have for being drawn there. I know that I will have to pry more deeply into his recent history and that I am going to have to be careful in doing so. It seems to me that his past may have been almost as turbulent as my own.

00000000000000

That evening Charlie is proved right. The storm is one of the worst in recorded history and it lasts for days.

00000000000

_The rain lashes me and lightning flashes overhead, showing the trees of the forest in bursts of black and blue. I am breathing heavily, willing my legs to take me ever faster. I know that I cannot outrun the beast, and that eventually I will have to turn and face it. My spear is a comforting weight in my hand._

_Somewhere in the distance I hear Charlie's screams of agony, as once again his body rips itself apart. Soon enough the sound stops, and I know that I don't have long. I find a suitable place to make a stand against him and I wait for him to find me._

_There is a ripping snarl to the right of me and he stalks from under the cover of the trees. The lightning shows him as he truly is, a hulking, immense beast thrown from the bowels of hell itself. His shaggy brown fur becomes as black as ink and his eyes glow red with a fury that even I could never match._

_When I speak, his hackles rise at the sound. _

"_Charlie, save me," I whisper._

"_Charlie, save me," I beg._

"_SAVE ME!" I scream. He roars an answer and charges towards me, lips drawn back from bloody fangs. I cast my spear aside, turn my face towards the heavens and throw my arms wide._

_Standing thus, I wait for his sharp embrace._

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_

_So, hope you liked this one, and sorry for the backtracking. I'm hoping for a little slash in the next one. It might be a little while before the next update. XX  
_


	5. Chapter 5

_So, have been writing this all week when I have had time and have finally managed to see the Avengers again! I have been so wrapped up in this that I had totally forgotten how much I adore Avengers Loki. :)  
_

_I'm trying to keep this all moving at a reasonable and believable (Hopefully) pace, so no slash in this chapter. Also I think you can guess what S.H.I.E. is supposed to be. Fanfiction wouldn't let me spell it properly for some reason.  
_

_XX  
_

_I stand in S.H.I.E. glass cage, knowing that I have them now, right where I want them. I also have an idea of what will come next. When I feel her presence behind me I smile complacently._

"_There are not many people who can sneak up on me," I say, turning to face her slowly, only to find that it is not Natasha Romanoff that I am looking at. Kaelyn's hanged woman stares at me sightlessly through the glass. Her blonde hair hangs limply and the welts around her neck show starkly purple against her white skin. _

"_I suppose you thought that you had escaped this, Asgardian," she says through the rotting flesh of her lips. "I suppose that you thought you could just bury this, and all the wrong that you have done, all the pain that you have caused. Now it is your turn for pain. How being mortal must burn you."_

"_I still have magic," I say, weakly. _

_She laughs a cold, dead laugh. "Magic that you can barely use, that makes you weak, weaker than any human. How pathetic you are." This last is said in a hiss of spite, and it chills me to the core._

"_You know nothing," I growl, striving for malice._

_She laughs again, and her voice has become that of Odin. I turn away from her then, in fear. "I know more than you could ever understand. Your soul is rotting Loki. There is but one who has hope of helping you now. He is the light to your dark. The wolf man."_

"_A young fool. A broken man." _

"_A good heart, and he is not broken, not yet. The upcoming events will test you both in that respect. You had better choose what side you want to be on, you can not play both. You either help him and live, or hinder him and die."_

"_He will die?"_

"_No, his fate will be much worse than that. He will be forced to become what he once was."_

"_And what was that?" I ask. _

_Thor's voice answers me, in a strange whisper. "Perhaps brother, it would be best to leave while you have the chance." When I turn around to ask him the meaning of this contradictory piece of advice, there is no one there. _

I thrash my way from this dream like a man trying not to drown, and lay shivering on the bed for a little while, breathing hard. I had been having similar dreams now for longer that I cared to admit, dreams of things past and old, forgotten feelings. This dream was different somehow though. It felt like prophecy. I rise and dress, adding my cloak to my attire. After four days of constant rain the castle feels damp and chilly. I wander the halls for a while, avoiding the places that people would most likely be.

I soon get the feeling that someone is following me, although I hear nothing, my instincts tell me that I am right. I turn a few sharp corners and duck into a hidden doorway, only to come up against something sharp, poking into the centre of my back.

"You'll have to try a little harder than that my friend," Jim says, right into my ear. His voice is soft and the menace that I hear in it makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. He moves so that he is standing in front of me and putting away his dagger, he appraises me coldly.

"It's taken me so long to get you on your own. You and Charlie…It's like you're glued to each other." He smiles a cold smile, a hint of fang gleaming in the torchlight. I am fighting every human instinct that I have, instincts that are telling me to run, that I must not spend a second longer in the presence of this dead man.

"That's not true at all is it?" I ask, finding the ice in my own voice and keeping it calm. "You could have found me anytime you wanted to. What have you been waiting for?"

"I've been waiting to see how events played out. At first I thought you would run. Why didn't you?"

"Perhaps I have also been waiting," I say, trying to lead him into telling me what this is about, although I have an idea. "One can never be too careful when trying to find allies." I look at him then, showing him the truth in my eyes.

"And you thought you might find them here," he laughs, and then continues before I can answer. "No matter. Allies you will have."

"You're taking a great risk in presuming that I would consider allying with your kind."

"I know who you are Loki; I know what you did…..tried to do on Earth. Somehow I can't see you suddenly deciding to side with the angels." He must see something in my face and he leans forward and says, "My master knows more than anyone on this retched planet. You should come over to the winning side, before that pup gets you killed."

"What does Charlie have to do with this?"

"Everything. My master is done playing his games with him now, and needs him to come back home." My stomach knots as the implications hit me, and his smile widens. "You're close to him, and you know how to send him back. I trust you to do the right thing." He walks away from me, and calls back over his shoulder, "And as for my earlier presumption about your allegiance, well, you would be _assuming _that you have a choice in the matter."

I watch him walk away, feeling somewhat soiled by my contact with him, and marvel at how deeply he has underestimated me. I realise that I need to find a way to end this, and soon. I think back to the clue that I had hidden from Charlie, something that would tell him everything he needed to know about this, and I know that it might be time for a little truth of my own.

Stepping quietly into his room, I return the clue to the box of evidence. I know that it will not be long before he finds it, he looks in here daily. I watch him sleeping for a few minutes before going back to my own room.

00000000000000

The next day sees Percy and I in his chambers watching a young woman named Freya practice her magic. According to Percy, she has apathy and talent for the art, and watching her, I can see that he is right. Her castings have a colour and beauty all of their own.

I understand why Percy has brought us together like this. He seems to feel that a little competition will help me bring my own magic forward. I would rather not do it at all if it means failing in front of his protégé, but after last nights meeting I know that I need to learn this, and learn it fast, if I am to be of any help when the time comes.

After three hours of intense concentration and the return of my frustration, I feel a change occurring. Suddenly something within me clicks into place and I achieve something beautiful of my own. The Light casting glows blue white and brave in my cupped hands for a few moments before dispersing. Unfortunately it is my only achievement this day, but that feeling of change remains within me, just waiting to be properly exercised once again.

000000000000000000

After my lesson I wander aimlessly for a while. I stay within the castle for the weather outside is still foul. The wind had picked up and rain lashes the windows that I pass. I hear footsteps behind me coming up at a rush and Ray's voice hails me. I turn just in time for him to grab me and push me back into the wall.

"Where is he?" He asks. His face and his voice are calm, but his eyes are burning with hatred and fury. "Where is Charlie?"

I shrug and say, "How would I know. I have not seen him since yesterday." He lets me go and looks as if he has something else to say. Instead he just shakes his head and storms away.

So, Charlie found his evidence, I think to myself. I also have an idea as to where he would have gone in such a situation.

I mount the horse that I have been using since being here and ride for the village of Caldwell, the place where I first saw the killer's handiwork, and a place where Charlie has a friend. It takes me almost an hour to get there in the pouring rain, and by the time I reach the inn, I am soaked through.

I find Charlie standing in the shelter of the porch at the back of the inn. He does not turn around when he hears me approach.

"It didn't take you long to find me then," he says quietly.

"I thought that you would come here."

He sighs heavily and leans his back against the wall. "I've been so, so blind to this." He glances around then; to see if anyone is near us, but no one in their right mind would be about in this weather.

I lay a gentle hand on his arm. "What has blinded you so?"

"Fear, Loki. I know that now." He rubs his face in his hands. "I should have known that it was him. It's so obvious! It was my fear and my blind hope that he would never find me, that he would just forget about me, which stopped me from seeing it."

"Who is he?"

"We knew him as Mertice. A name I came to fear and hate. He…he made me what I am. He gave me plenty of reminders of what I am," He says, indicating the scars on his forearm and the starburst shaped scar the size of a small fist on the right side of his neck.

"You were his prisoner?" I ask, laying my hand on his arm again. He shakes it off.

"I was his pet, there for his amusement," he growls, pacing now. Suddenly he stops with his back to me. "He made me his executioner, when he saw that I had a skill for it."

"That's something that you have obviously lost since," I observe dryly.

"It's something that I've chosen to forget!" He says, looking at me furiously. I cup a hand under his chin, forcing him to continue looking at me. We stand like that for a few moments, with him staring at me burningly, before I kiss him.

He is shocked to stillness for a second and then he puts his cold hands to either side of my face and leans into me. His lips are also cold, but they are soft and eager on my own, and soon warm up. Once again I am amazed by my wanting of this closeness and when I stop fighting my urge to run from it, the kiss becomes all the sweeter. He removes one hand from my check and rests it lightly over my heart.

We stay this way for a while, enjoying the moment, until a question occurs to me and I have to ask it there and then, while the conversation is still fresh and out in the open. I pull away so that I can see his flushed face.

"Would you kill him, if you had the chance?" I ask. The fury still burns in his eyes and his lips pull back into a beautiful, feral snarl. I move my hand to his throat.

"If I had the chance, then yes, I would," he says, with feeling, but then something in him softens and he looks away from me. "I had the chance once before, but I didn't take it. It'd be good to make up for that mistake, only it means going back there."

"Yes, it does," I say quietly. "You won't be going alone though." He looks at me in shock then, and knowing exactly what his next argument will be I say, a little exasperated, "Just don't Charlie, you can't do this alone. You know that."

I watch him quietly wrestle with some thought and then he says, "I…They can't know about you….I can't have.."

"It's too late for that, they know of me already," I interrupt.

"What? How?"

"The man knows where you are, where you're going to be and he knows exactly how to get you where he wants you. And all of this from a vast distance. If you believe that he doesn't have a close eye on you somewhere here you would be a fool Charlie! If he knows all that, I'm sure that finding out about me was the easiest thing. I haven't exactly hidden." I stop at that, hearing the odd echo of my words and letting him sort the hint out for himself, but for now he looks too lost to do any such thing.

I lead him inside the inn and insist on making him stay here for the night. Who knows what an hour long ride in the rain might do to him in this state, and I need him to be strong. I also can not stand the idea of having to face his over bearing friend back in Arden. I watch him closely, noting how pale his skin is under his tan, and the purple smudges beneath his dark eyes. His brows are once again knitted in worry.

I allow myself, briefly, to wonder why I feel so protective of this young man after so short an acquaintance, and then abandon the thought when it leads me down paths that I'm not willing to tread just yet. All I can say for sure is that something profound within me is shifting, and it is not an unpleasant sensation.

000000000000

_I hear screams echoing all around me. I realise that not all of them are human when some of them become snarls and growls. I open my eyes and find myself on a raised gallery. Looking over the balcony to where the sounds are coming from I see nothing. All below is darkness and I get the feeling that what is happening down there is somehow not for my eyes. _

_A man appears next to me, holding a crystal wine glass. He is tall and elegant and ageless. He smiles fondly and looks at me, and through me. I step back and turn in time to see a young woman approach. She is also tall and elegant. Her hair is a deep autumn red and the golden gown that she wears is crossed with black and forest green, colours that were once mine. The eyes that she turns to me are also green, like mine._

_I notice with a jolt that she is looking directly at me. "Watch closely," she whispers in a cool, clear voice as she passes me, and goes to stand beside her companion. He kisses her hand lightly. _

"_Cassie," he says, bowing slightly. "You look as radiant as ever."_

"_It's kind of you to say so Mertice." _ _So this man is Charlie's torturer, I think to myself._

"_I can not thank you enough for this wonderful suggestion." He indicates below with his wine glass. "You were quite right about him, he is going to keep us amused for quite some time I feel." _

_The woman, Cassie, appears to not have heard, for she had turned to me and beckoned me to come closer, to look below. When I look I see Charlie immediately. I have after all seen him in this form before. I only have time to make out dark brown fur and the bright red blood surrounding him before the dream begins to fade._

"_Remember this," says her soft voice from the deepening gloom. "It has to end where it began. I have shown him to you Loki, you know who to look for."_

_Any questions I have are lost when the darkness envelopes me, and for a while I know no more._


	6. Chapter 6

_By the way, "Gladsheim" is Asgards debating hall. I realised that they don't actually mention it in the movie :S  
_

_Hope you enjoy. XX  
_

* * *

_I wake to find myself kneeling on the cold floor of Gladsheim and my heart skips a beat, whether from fear or an odd kind of joy I do not know._

_Images come to me then, visions of a city destroyed and its people enslaved. The city is so ruined that it takes me a little while before I recognise it as New York. I feel lost and confused, knowing that this is not real, but before I can think too deeply on this I hear footsteps echoing around the cavernous hall. I look up to see Cassie walking towards me, her red hair streaming behind her._

"_You again," I say, watching her as she crouches beside me. She now appears to be wearing some kind of hardened leather armour instead of the golden gown._

"_You can't get rid of me that easily," She says. The amusement that I see in her eyes irritates me._

"_Who are you?"_

"_That's not important right now. All you need to know is that I am a friend to you, and friends are something that you are in need of right now." She looks into my visions of the devastated city and I see a strange kind of approval on her face. "What were you hoping to achieve here?"_

"_This never happened," I point out, feeling the need to explain and avoiding the question._

_She laughs mirthlessly and says, "It would have done Loki, if you had succeeded in what you had planned. You would be a fool to believe otherwise. Are you really in that much denial of it?"_

_I rise then, and walk away from her, although there is nowhere to go. "You don't look all that disapproving for someone who feels the need to teach me a lesson," I throw back at her, over my shoulder._

_Her voice comes from close behind me and she lays a pale hand on my shoulder. "I'll only disapprove if you fail to learn from this mistake. You don't have to repeat it. None of the feelings that created it lie with Charlie and that world. It's time for change." _

"_Yes, because it's that easy isn't it?" I ask sarcastically. I shake her hand away angrily. _

"_It is Loki," she says simply, and hands me some piece of cold, bright metal. I look down to see one of my throwing knives, its tip still wet with Thor's blood. I stare at it for a long time before the dream fades._

* * *

The next morning I find Charlie sitting on the inns porch, sharpening his sword. I immediately notice a change in the way his jaw and shoulders are set.

"You have made a decision then," I say, making it a statement and not a question.

"Sit down Loki," he says. I do as he asks, taking the seat next to him, and he continues slowly. "You were right. I can't do this on my own. You insist on helping me but I don't believe that you have the slightest idea of what you are letting yourself in for." He stops what he is doing and looks at me seriously then.

I smile, completely disregarding his fear. "I've seen worse," I assure him.

He frowns and asks hesitantly, "Who were you? Is anything Jim said about you true?"

"I wouldn't believe every thing he tells you Charlie. Also, I believe that you have already asked me that question."

"Yeah, I remember. You didn't answer me then either."

I lean back in the chair and sigh heavily. I know that if I give him some riddle now, he will only be asking again later on, and really, I am not quite sure why I have not told him yet. "He was right about one thing. I was a god." I wait for the questions that are surely going to come, but he just nods, accepting this information quietly, and he asks nothing of me.

"You may have seen some stuff in your time Loki, but this is different," he says instead, clearly feeling the need to lecture me. "You need to do yourself a favour and remember that you're mortal now, even though you have magic. These vampires are extremely dangerous. If you and I are going to take them on, we need a plan and we can't do it on our own."

"You have an idea?"

He shakes his head slowly and then rubs his hands over his face. "Not yet. I'm working on it though. We need time, I know that much."

"You want to wait until the full moon," I say, guessing what he is thinking.

"I don't have a choice but to wait. I'm not strong enough like this."

"They may bring things forward themselves."

"Nah, I doubt it," he says with a rueful smile. "These guys know how to play the long game. Really, a game is all it is to them." He rises and, to my surprise, runs his knuckles softly over my cheek. "We need to get back to Arden," he says quietly, and then goes back into the inn, leaving me no room for argument and feeling a little odd. The place where he touched me stays warm for quite some time.

* * *

The weather has improved considerably, and going back to Arden we make good time. Ray comes out to greet Charlie when we arrive, and gives me another of his black looks. I walk away, leaving them to it.

I head back to my room and when I get there, I see that someone has left something for me on the bed. It appears at first glance to be a coiled strip of leather, but when I unfold it I find that it is actually a belt of throwing knives. They are nowhere near as ornate as my own but they are still beautifully tooled weapons. Taking one in my hand I find that they are a perfect balance. I wonder briefly who would have left them for me, but those thoughts only lead back to my earlier dream. This is surely just some strange coincidence, I think to myself. It must be.

Throwing these thoughts aside and taking the knives with me, I go and find Charlie. He is sitting at the desk in one of the work rooms, reading a letter.

"Did you tell him?" I ask.

"Did I tell who what?" he glances up at me and lays the letter aside. I see an intriguing glint in his eyes, a sly mischievousness that I haven't seen before from him.

"Did you tell Ray about Mertice?"

"No, not yet. Why?"

"I just thought that you would. I thought that maybe he was part of your plan." I say slowly, feeling a little confused.

"Well, I'll tell him when he needs to know. Right now we have other things to think about." He indicates the letter and says, smiling slightly, "I'm going to show you how to kill vampires."

"What? I thought you didn't, unless…"

"Unless they overstep the mark," he interrupts. "We've got one who did, and recently too. He killed people…quite a few, perhaps a year ago. We gave him a trial, like we do all of the ones who we catch, and we banished him. They get magically bound to the places that they are banished to, so they can't run far. He knows that to re-offend means death," he says, and then stops.

"He killed again?" I prompt him.

He shakes his head, his serious look returning. "He kidnapped someone's daughter. They think he may have killed her, or turned her. They don't know which. It's pretty bad either way."

"He turned her into a vampire?" I ask, realising that I actually have no idea what he is talking about. He missed this part out when explaining to me about the creatures that lived on this world.

"Yeah, it's easy, unfortunately. It's how they breed. We need to go and check out what's what and we had best go prepared." He walks over to a cabinet on the other side of the room. In it is an array of jars and bottles, each different from the last. He chooses a few of these, seemingly at random and starts pouring small amounts of their contents into a stone bowl. He mixes this concoction together quickly, and I watch on in fascination as he takes his knife, holds it over a candle flame for a few seconds and then uses it to make a cut in his forearm.

He sees me looking, and must see the concern on my face for he explains, "I never understood people making cuts on their palms. I mean, how the hell are you supposed to use your hand after that!?" I must still look confused and worried because he grins and says, "Werewolf blood is poisonous to vampires. Not enough to kill them, but enough to slow them down. We won't need much for this one; he's not all that strong." When he is done mixing he makes a rough bandage for his arm and adds most of the mixture into a few large vials.

"I need your sword, and any other weapons you are going to bring along. We have to poison them, otherwise they'll be useless."

I hand him my sword and pause briefly, considering whether or not to mention the knives, but in the end I hand them over too. He takes one and handles it in almost the same way as I had done, checking the balance.

"Where did you find these?"

"I found them in the armoury," I say, shrugging.

He nods and glances at me briefly. "Ok," he says, and I get the feeling that he knows that I am lying, but he chooses not to pursue it, repeating instead, "Ok. We're leaving in the morning."

* * *

The place that the vampire now resides is to the west of town, out past the place where I had come through onto this planet. Charlie watches me as we ride past, amusement lightly touching the corners of his lips.

"I know what you're considering, and it's pointless," he says. When I frown he laughs a little, saying, "You were thinking that if there is a way in, then there has to be a way out right? Well, apparently, it doesn't work that way. We tried every thing that we have to turn it around, but nothing works."

"There's now way off of this planet at all?" I ask. He had, of course, guessed exactly what I was thinking, but I didn't believe for a second that there was no way out. Charlie confirms my next thought.

"We hear things, occasionally, about places that can be manipulated to become doorways and portals. We don't know how much truth there is to the rumours and theses places are too far away for us to just go and explore."

I look at him a little incredulously then, and ask before I can stop myself, "Don't you want a chance to go home?"

He shakes his head uncomfortably, and I let the matter drop for now, but keep it in mind for further investigation later on. Soon enough we come to the cave, and Charlie insists on telling me to be careful once again, and we make a rough plan of action.

I can feel the magic building in me again and ask, in the hope that it may come in useful, "Is magic no good against them?"

"Not really," he says slowly, thinking, and then he asks, "Can you do a Brilliance casting?"

"Percy told me of them, but I haven't tried it."

"Time to try it now then," he says, laying a warm hand briefly over my own.

We enter the cave carefully and slowly. I watch Charlie for any signs that the vampire is near, knowing that he would be the first to know, and I try to be ready for anything. We move deeper into the gloom and it's getting more and more difficult for me to see, but he will not allow a light, insisting that he sees much better without it.

It does not take us long to find the woman that he have come looking for. When Charlie does allow me a small amount of light, instead of lighting a flame I create a Light casting to drain off some of the energy within me. In its blue glow I see that she is unmistakably dead. Her throat has been torn out. Charlie kneels beside her and gazes at her for a few moments before tenderly taking the silver chain from around her neck.

"I guess he got greedy," He whispers, rising. He turns around then, suddenly, hearing something behind him.

"I thought they would send the other one. The big one," says a voice from the darkness.

"Disappointed?" Charlie asks, and I see that his feral smile has returned.

"Yes, actually. I thought that it would be a challenge." Charlie grins at that and I see that the mild amusement is still in his eyes as he briefly glances at me.

Taking my cue, I close my eyes and turn my face to the side. I let the Light casting grow and grow until it explodes in a brilliant and soundless flash of white light. The cave is now lit as if the sun were shining, and I turn just in time to see Charlie make his first move, hamstringing the vampire, forcing him to his knees. I still have enough energy to loose two of the throwing knives. When they pierce his chest the flesh there starts to smoke.

"Bet you didn't expect that," Charlie says from behind him.

"Damn you Lyco's….. you always cheat….. you always spoil everything, don't you?" the vampire says through gasps of pain. Charlie does not answer that, instead swinging his sword and taking off the vampires head in one clean sweep. I realise that this is the first time that I have seen him kill anything, and clearly it is not over yet because he takes the stake and drives it right into the headless creature's heart. I watch, stunned as the body slowly turns to dust. Charlie removes a copper bracelet from what would have been a wrist and throws it over to me. I can feel the magical energy within it.

"The binding?" I ask.

"Yeah, that forced him to stay within the area. Didn't stop her from exploring too closely though," he says, indicating the dead woman.

The light is fading rapidly now, and we leave the cave. Once we are outside, Charlie stops, staring back towards the cave mouth.

"That was much easier that expected," I say. He looks so troubled that I am compelled to reach out and touch him. When he feels my fingers lightly touch his cheek he looks back to me, startled from his worried reverie.

"Yes it was," He says, sighing. "He knew the penalty for killing. He did it on purpose, so we would end things for him. The words were just bravado. You get the idea anyway," He finishes lamely, and heads off towards the horses. I get the feeling that it was not the vampires aparent suicide that took his mind so far away.

In that moment, and if I had been able to, I could have told him that I had much more than an idea, that in fact I had a plan working and almost formed in my mind. I couldn't of course, the plan relied so heavily on him knowing as little as possible of it.

Feeling more satisfied I follow Charlie back to Arden.


	7. Chapter 7

_So, finally, we get to the slash. I hope it is all that you were waiting for. __On a side note, those of you who are familliar with a T.V. show called Being Human (A werewolf, a vampire and a ghost share a house in bristol, totally worht checking out if you haven't seen it before) you might start recognising a few things. Their idea of werewolves is really interesting, and its been one of my all time favorite shows for years!_

_Enjoy and If you could review, let me know what you think so far it would be much appreciated. :)_

* * *

_In my dreams I walk the halls of Asgard, sometimes alone, sometimes with Cassie's company, and always with the people of the great city going about their business around me. I have seen many of the people that I once knew, and have tried in vain to make my presence known to them but they do not see me. Their lips move as they speak with others but I can not hear their conversations. If it were not for the fact that eventually I wake from theses silent movies, I would probably run mad._

_This night's dream sees me alone in the crowded banquet hall. I watch the revelry take place in front of my eyes, watch friends and comrades laugh together and enjoy each others company, and it is all I can do not to scream._

"_Feeling bitter, are we?" Cassie asks me sardonically. _

_I find her quickly among the guests at table, sitting at a place next to Sif. She looks like the only real person here. I sneer at her and step between Volstagg and Frandral so that I can lean on the table opposite her._

"_Why do you delight in torturing me so?" I ask her with barely restrained malice._

"_What, this?" she asks innocently, twirling her hand around to indicate the scene around us. "This comes from your head, not mine. I'm just here to keep you company," and then, tasting one of the dishes in front of her, she adds, "This food is great, by the way."_

"_You are in the hall of the Gods, what do you expect," I snap. I cover my eyes with my hand and take a deep, steadying breath before continuing in a much more reasonable tone. "Please, I need to know who you are and what you want with me."_

"_Wow," she says, sitting back in mock amazement. "So the God of Mischief does know how to say please. Never would have guessed!" Something in her mocking tone reminds me so much of Charlie then that the words pass me by almost unnoticed._

_Before I can retort she gets up, skips across the table and lands lightly behind me. She pulls me away from my old acquaintances, into the centre of the hall. I look into her smiling face expectantly, waiting for her to explain herself. Instead of speaking, she lays a cool hand on my cheek. The vision that she gives to me weakens my knees, causing me to fall, but I do not feel the impact._

I see Mertice standing in a candle lit room.

"You have disappointed me greatly Cassie," he says quietly. The young woman to whom he speaks stands off to one side. She wears a tattered rag, and through the gaps I see that she is covered in many wounds. Her red hair is dishevelled and her eyes are wild. She knows that she is about to die.

From this angle I can see a knife in his hands. He plays with it idly for a few moments, holding it over a flame before turning to show it to her. Her eyes flick towards the door and the vampire utters a deep, evil laugh.

"Your brother can't help you now," he says, gouging a cut in her neck deep enough to hit the artery. Her blood sprays in a wide arc, and I am close enough for quite a bit of it to end up on me.

The vision fades as he moves in to feed from her.

_I open my eyes to find that I am sprawled on the marble floor of the banqueting hall. I sit up slowly, feeling dizzy, and the dizziness increases when Thor walks right through me._

"_THOR," I shout, knowing that he will not hear me. I am getting sick and tired of being ignored here, and I throw a discarded wine goblet after him in my frustration and anger. _

_I search for Cassie but she is gone, and as the dream darkens, I look down to discover that I am still covered in her blood._

* * *

During the days since returning, Charlie and I had got into weapons practice. It felt good to be doing it again and it transpired that without my godly strength we were evenly matched, making it a challenge for both of us. I also believe that we both appreciated the time spent together, although he probably admitted it to himself more freely than I did.

The rest of my time during daylight hours was spent with Percy, vigorously practicing my magic. It was becoming easier for me by the day, with much less time spent in exhaustion. Freya was often with us, and it took this opportunity to watch them both closely, knowing that they were an integral part of my plan.

The evenings I spent once again with Charlie, deep in fireside conversations that circled both of our pasts like some kind of strange dance. Just when we were about to reveal something telling we would shy away from it and instead talk about something safe. He did briefly mention a sister, with such a look of sadness and loss in his eyes, before changing the subject entirely.

It is now the fourth evening since Charlie and I returned, and I am once again pacing the corridors of the castle restlessly, waiting for the inevitable. I turn a particularly dark corner and Jim steps from the shadows into my path. I try to make it look like I hadn't been expecting it.

"You were looking for me," he says. It is said as a statement, not a question.

"You won't be needing that," I say, pointing to where I had seen his dagger gleam briefly in the dim light. He smiles in what I suppose is an apologetic way as I lean against the wall nonchalantly. "What do you want with me?" I ask, my voice neutral and my hatred for him masked.

"I wanted to see if you had thought any more on our previous conversation. Time is running short and we need you to act soon, if you are still willing."

"Of course I am. Did you suspect otherwise?"

"Watching the way you toy with him, I honestly thought that you had forgotten me and my offer." He gazes at me searchingly and what he sees must satisfy him for he smiles, shark like, and continues, "I have to hand it to you, you certainly know how to play the cruel edge." The smile fades a little and he makes to walk off but turns suddenly and says, as if he had almost forgotten, "We need you to act, no later than the third night before full moon."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Send him away from you. I don't care how you do it." His lips twist in a horrible smirk and he adds, "Perhaps you could stage a lovers tiff." I nod to show him that I have heard him and agree but I don't speak, not trusting my voice, and my hands itch to curl around his throat. He returns my nod and walks away from me.

I let him get a little distant before I call after him. "Out of curiosity," I say, and my voice is calmer than I had expected it to be, "How would this go if I had refused you?"

All of his humour is gone now, and the chilling certainty with which he speaks makes the very air around me seem colder. "We would take you both, and when full moon rolls around we would put you in the cage together, a fight to the death, just to see who would win. You would get to keep your sword of course, but my money would still be on Charlie."

When he walks away I promise myself that I will be the one to kill him, and that I will make him experience all of the pain in the world before I am through with him.

Feeling at a loss I search for Charlie but along the way I bump into a servant who tells me he has gone to bathe. I continue wandering for a while, thinking on what Jim had said. It galled me to play the game this way, but I needed to be close to them, close enough to kill and for that they needed to believe that I was cooperating with them fully. I try to put these thoughts aside, knowing that I do not intend to act on Jim's words just yet.

Soon enough I decide to go back to Charlie's room and wait for him there. Opening the door I find him standing over by the window, gazing out at the sunset with an innocent and childlike rapture, as if it was the first one he has ever seen. The light of the setting sun plays over his tanned skin and his dark, damp hair and lends him some strange quality. In that moment he could have been mistaken for one of us.

Whatever questions I had been about to put to him are blown from my mind like dandelion seeds as my eyes drink in this image of him, this vision standing in the gold and red light. Walking over and standing silently behind him, I see that a few stray drops of water lay on his shoulder, and they are lit from within with the same autumnal hues. I run my fingers lightly over them, scattering them, and then continue down the thin white scars that cross his back and once again over the thicker ones on his right shoulder, the ones that make him what he is. My hands continue to explore his skin in this fashion, and he has not moved. Neither of us has yet spoken a word.

An irresistible impulse forces me to bury my nose in his damp hair, and I brush my lips over the skin at the base of his neck, taking in his scent. He smells of soap, incense, and very faintly, of wood smoke. When I exhale I finally get a reaction from him. As he draws in a breath through his teeth and turns his head to the right, his skin prickles with gooseflesh. I fight the urge to smile smugly at my achievement, instead placing soft hands on his chest, soft lips to his left shoulder, and pulling him gently towards me. I bite his shoulder lightly, testing the waters.

What he does next he does so fast that I don't even have time to register it until I am pressed up against the wall. He kisses me quickly and ferociously before pulling back to take off my shirt, nearly ripping it in his eagerness. Smiling a little, I take this opportunity to get a good look at him. That mischievousness is back in his eyes, only it is deeper and much more playful this time. Seeing it there causes a knot to twist pleasurably in the pit of my stomach. I am tempted to speak but resist easily, enjoying this mysterious silence between us too much to break it.

He kisses me again, roughly, and leans the full length of his body against me. The kiss is deep and warm and full of urgency, although, for all its ferocity, when his tongue finds mine, it is almost gentle. The feel of his skin against mine is wonderful, freeing even, and while I plunge my hands into his thick hair his fingertips flirt lightly with the skin over my ribs. His touch is tantalizing agony, teasing me almost to the point of madness. I can feel him wanting to pick up the pace but he doesn't, instead softening his kisses until his lips are barely more than a whisper on my neck, my shoulder, my chest. It becomes a game for us, teasing each other to see who will break first.

Turning him around I pin him to the wall and push his legs apart with my knee. I watch his face closely, knowing that he is about to loose the game, and with a few quick movements I have his trousers open. He manages to keep eye contact with me but catches his lip lower lip in his teeth and trembles slightly as my hand runs slowly down his torso. Reaching into his trousers I take hold of him firmly. He closes his eyes, his lips parting slightly as he tries to fight the feeling but he doesn't last long before admitting defeat.

He grins and barks a harsh laugh. "You are such a cheat," he says, his voice husky and his eyes lit with a dark fire. All I can do is smile a vulpine smile, desire having robbed me of my own voice, and kiss him again.

Taking hold of my arms he pushes me down onto the bed. A wrestling match of sorts ensues; one that leaves the remainder of our clothes scattered about the room and has Charlie laughing breathlessly as he tries to fend me off weakly and unconvincingly. He is up on his hands and knees now, and taking hold of his hips I pull him towards me before he can get away. Without giving him warning or any time to think I guide myself into him. When I enter him he draws in a sharp breath and stops fighting me entirely. I push myself deeper into him, making him gasp louder and I hear cloth tear as he rips at the sheets beneath us.

"Ohh, gods," he moans. I have him speared now, and he writhes beneath me.

As I work up a rhythm the sheer unbelievable feel of this forces me to throw my head back and let out my own groan of pleasure. I run my fingernails down his spine, hard, drawing blood. He stretches his arms out in front of him and arches up into my hand. I run it upwards, smearing blood across his back. He is gasping at every thrust now, and when I take hold of him with my free hand, he arches into me even higher. The scars on his lower back graze my belly, somehow heightening everything that I am feeling and dragging sounds from my throat that I didn't even think I was capable of making.

I can feel him getting close to his peak now. Instead of gasping he has begun to growl, the animal in him taking the lead for now and I tighten my grip on him, thrusting harder. He tenses briefly before letting loose and bucks wildly, burying his face in the bedcovers to quieten his shouts. After a few moments I too give in and as the release comes my knees weaken, and I wrap my arms around him tightly, burying my teeth in his shoulder.

We collapse onto the bed, breathing hard and I half expect him to start making some idle after love chit chat. Instead he moves close to me and kisses me softly before putting his arms around me tenderly and holding me close, in a way that I have never before been held. The ease with which Charlie gives me his affection frightens me, but not nearly as much as my desperate need for it does. I don't fight it or push him away though, and soon enough the heat of his body and the sound of his fast running heart lull me into a shallow but soothing sleep.

* * *

I wake some time later to find that I am lying on my side with my head pillowed on Charlie's arm. Through the window I can see the waxing moon, and I watch its progress across the sky for a while before Charlie stirs beside me. Brushing my hair aside he plants a soft kiss between my shoulder blades and wraps his free arm around me.

"Have you ever been with a man?" It was a question I had been contemplating for a little while, mainly to stop myself from thinking of other, darker things. I ask him now out of curiosity.

He had started drawing complex patterns on my chest with his index finger, but he stops, considering how to answer me. "Yes," he says slowly, "But not for a long long time. I haven't been with anyone for a long time. Is that a problem?" He sounds confused and I shift onto my back so that I can see him in the moonlight.

Cupping his cheek in my hand I reassure him. "Of course not, I was merely curious. How has it been so long for you?"

He answers me haltingly, thinking carefully about each word. "It's just….too much to risk. I'm dangerous Loki, and not only for what I am. This war between us and the vampires isn't a new thing. It's too much to risk," he repeats. "I've made mistakes and people have been hurt because of it." His words stop, and he is unable to continue. Tears shine in his eyes.

"I understand," I say softly.

"Do you?" He asks, with a sad smile.

"More than you could know," I assure him. His tears are free now and they roll down his cheeks silently. I wipe them away with my thumbs before kissing him deeply and passionately. We don't sleep again until the sun begins to rise.

* * *

We pass a few nights in this pleasant way and on the fifth night, four nights before the full moon I lie awake experiencing some kind of moral dilemma. In the moonlight I watch Charlie sleep for a long time, watch the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes and his eyes move as he wanders in some dream. What I am about to do to him feels so much like betrayal that I consider leaving then; consider waking him and asking him to come with me. We could leave to find this place that he spoke of, this place where the fabric of the world is thin enough to create a portal, a gateway to other worlds. I could convince him that he need not be in this hell any longer, that we could go home, or at least try too. What would he have to lose? And then suddenly I realise exactly why he would not do it and I roll onto my back, cursing myself for a blind fool and wondering how on earth I had missed it.

For the first time in a long time I find myself rushing towards my dreams. I need to speak with Cassie.


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry for the long time between updates folks, I've been plagued with terrible block. Had to change a few things to get myself through it, so I apologise for anything out of continuity, including the lack of Cassie, or even mention of her. I'll make up for it later. XXX

* * *

"_Come on," Charlie urges us. "We have to go now if we are to have any chance of finding him."_

_I can see the panic rising in him, and the pain that he feels from his wounds is written clear on his face. I gently push him back onto the bed. "No, Charlie. Leave this to us. I promise that we will finish this." After a moment of glaring at me, he relents, sagging onto the bed._

_Quite simply, our plan had gone wrong. Charlie had been wounded, pierced by several crossbow bolts, and Mertice had escaped with the remainder of his generals. Many lives on our side had been lost. I know that going after him now is an insane plan, but if we don't try we may loose the trail and never find it again. Ray and at least fifty others are all vying for a place to come with me and I decide to take them all._

_We leave immediately and ride well into the night, following the trail that Ray finds for us. Another storm has begun, and I am just about to suggest a halt when the trees surrounding us erupt with noise. Crossbow bolts are fired from the shadows and my party scatters. I ride hard away from the clearing that we had found ourselves in, stopping only when I am well into the trees. Turning around I find myself alone. When Mertice and his followers emerge from the trees around me I move to kick my horse into a gallop, but a well placed arrow takes her from under me. When I jump clear they surround me and I stay where I am on the ground, knowing that it would be useless to run._

_Staring down at me from his horse, Mertice asks, "What exactly have you done to inspire such trust in them? I do believe that they would die for you."_

"_No, they would die to take you down," I snarl at him._

_He smiles his sharp smile. "So be it." He begins to turn his horse and then stops, as if struck by a sudden thought. "But surely, seeing as you do give them such heart, would it not be better if you were simply….gone?" He gives some signal and his entourage dismount. Two of them take hold of me and I don't resist them. My mind is whirling, trying desperately to find some way out, and I hope that the others will find me before they kill me. Mertice produces a large amulet from a sleeve and tosses it to his magician, a man who had miraculously survived the battle. I watch with growing fear as he works his magic and a portal begins to materialise. "Yes, far better that you had never been at all."_

_I fight them then, with everything that I have, as they drag me to the now fully formed portal. It does no good of course; I've not the strength to fight them, and I just have time to think, _goodbye Charlie, _before they push me roughly through. I turn my forward momentum into a roll and come up onto one knee in time to see the portal begin to close behind me. Panic grips me and I rush towards my rapidly shrinking path to Charlie, to freedom. I had only glanced around a my new surroundings for a second, but I didn't need long to recognise one of Asgard cells, a place I do not wish to be again, not while there is still a chance of something else._

_The portal is entirely gone by the time I reach the wall. "No, no, no, no!" I choke out these negatives while frantically scratching and beating at the now blank space on the wall. It doesn't take long for me to start leaving bloody marks on it from where I have torn my fingernails and cut my hands. I realise that I have somehow ended up on my knees, but it seems unimportant, far away as my desperation to find someway back deepens._

"_Brother, stop this." Thor's voice comes from behind me then, soft and apologetic. _

_A cold certainty washes over me suddenly, and I do indeed stop my fruitless scrabbling. My arms fall to my sides, useless, and my hands begin to shake. "How long have I been here?" I ask him, my voice little more that a savage hiss. I gaze at him over my shoulder, unwilling to face him fully. I dread his answer, and when it comes I cannot stop the wave of emotions that threaten to drown me._

"_Months, Loki," he says with a shrug. "You've been here for months. You know this, surely." _

_Hot tears start to build in my eyes, in my throat, threatening to choke me. Also starting to build within me at these words is a strange and sudden sense of duality, a feeling of being in two places at the same time. I also feel that perhaps one of those places isn't quite real. _It has to have been real, _I tell myself. _How can it not have been? _But I can feel the cold of the stones beneath my knees and the dull throb of my damages fingers, and just for a second, I wonder. That wonder only lasts for a moment though before I squash it with thoughts of Charlie and another negative. "No," I say, my voice strong and sure. "That's not possible."_

_His brow furrows and he asks, as if speaking to a child, "Where do you think you've been?"_

_The conviction in his voice and his genuine confusion bring back that odd feeling of at once existing in two places. I don't know how long he had been standing at the bars, but quite obviously he had missed seeing the portal. The only way that he would have missed something like that is if it hadn't been there to see. _I can't have dreamt it, I can't have! _I tell myself, but no matter how hard I try to convince myself of the truth, I cannot stop my tears from falling, nor hold back the howl of anguish that escapes me. _How can it not have been real…..

* * *

I am woken by my own screams. My heart is beating wildly and my breathing is ragged. I am aware of the soft support of Charlie's bed beneath me, but it is not until I get a good look at my whole and undamaged hands that I really realise that I had been dreaming. It had felt so real.

I feel Charlie shift beside me. His hands are upon me and he is murmuring something comforting, although I cannot discern the words. I take hold of one of those hands, so warm, so _real _and hold it to my chest. It takes a long time for me to stop shaking.

"What did you dream," he asks, his voice much more concerned than curious.

I sit up slowly, avoiding his gaze but still holding his hand. After thinking for a moment, I find myself trying to articulate it. "It was only….things that I thought I wouldn't have to face, but now….." I stop there and retreat into myself, feeling so utterly lost and unable to convey anything that I am feeling. He kisses me then, giving me the perfect way to try and express myself. I go to it with my whole heart, making the most of it, and I almost miss the significance of his own intensity.

I had begun to have the feeling recently that Charlie had realised my plan, or at least part of it. I was still trying to maintain the illusion that we were going to make some kind of attack on the vampires together, but the information that he was insisting on handing me had nothing to do with that false plan and everything to do with the real one. Of course, I hadn't been able to discuss it with him, not with Jim so close at my heels, and I hadn't wanted to just blindly believe that this was the case. This kiss though, it feels like a good bye, as if he doesn't believe that we will get another chance at it. When he pulls away from me, I can see it in his eyes, and it makes my heart sink.

"Um," he says, his voice trembling a little. "I need to go and help Percy. He asked me yesterday to help him…and Jim." He had looked away from me as he was speaking. I brush the back of my fingers over his cheek lightly, returning his attention to me once more. He glances at me quickly, afraid of what he may see on my face, and then he rises from the bed abruptly and rushes towards the door.

"Charlie," I say, stopping him before he can leave. When he turns back to me I give him a shallow nod and a small smile, hoping that it will be enough. After a moment of staring at me he returns it, and then he is gone.

I get dressed slowly, feeling melancholy. I know that I should hurry, as I need to speak to Percy before he leaves, but I find myself wandering the room. I had noticed something different here, but it takes me a while to pin down exactly what it is. There is a box on the mantle piece, one that I have never seen before and I go over to it, meaning only to study it, but the fact that there is no obvious way to open it heightens my curiosity. It takes me a while, but eventually I get into it. Inside is Charlie's necklace. Only once had I seen him without this, on the morning after he had transformed. I take it out, and run my thumb over the silver cross. I know that I had been right about Charlie having an inkling of my plan. He knows that he is going to be taken back to Mertice, and he has left this here for safekeeping. I close my hand over it and pray that I can give him the chance to come back for it.

After replacing it carefully, I head off to meet Percy, trying desperately to leave my thoughts and the more troubling of my feelings behind me. Carefully, I make sure that I am not followed. When I reach Percy's room I enter and patiently wait for him to cast the soundproofing spell that will allow us to talk without fear of being overheard. I had first seen him do this particular spell a few days ago; when he has sensed that I had something important to tell him, something that I didn't want others listening to. I had restrained myself from throttling him for not telling me of it sooner, and settled for telling him my entire plan instead. He hadn't hesitated in offering his help, as I knew he wouldn't, and he had organised everything that I myself could not. I breathe out a sigh of relief when the soft blue glow covering the wall disappears. Finally able to relax, I slump into one of his easy chairs.

"Are you sure that we haven't left this too late?" he asks me.

"They think that they know me, Percy. They suspect that I am planning something. Well, they would suspect me of that even if I wasn't planning something." I shake my head and move into a more comfortable position. "Anyway, the lateness of this is the point, they would have expected me to organise something far sooner than this. I still need you to get Jim away from here though. He's watching us. I need time."

He nods sagely, already knowing this answer. "Have you done what he wants you to do yet? To Charlie?" he asks. When I avoid his gaze he sighs deeply. "I knew it would be difficult for you. You've grown close." Thinking for a moment he adds, almost as an afterthought, "You know, this might be a lot easier if you lifted that spell from him. He might be able to say something to inspire you to do it." I give him a look and he counters it with one of his own. "Come now," he chides me, although his voice isn't soft or friendly. "I've known him for a long time, Loki. You think I can't tell when he's not being himself. Through choice he is a lonely man, and the walls he builds to protect himself are made of granite, impenetrable. And then he let you in, just like that. I didn't know it was possible to do something like that with magic."

I squirm briefly under his gaze. "You can't with your magic; it's not the same thing at all. It was only a simple spell to pacify him. I had to do it, Percy." I say this last defensively, after the weight of his gaze begins to crush me.

"Why?" he asks, his eyebrows raised and his voice sharp. "Because he made you _feel _something other than anger or hatred. The instant that you met him you saw that it was possible to have something else from life, and it frightened you so much that you had to stop it." He smiles a little then, softening his words. "You came up against Charlie's particular brand of magic. He can make even the darkest of us crave the light."

"I know," I sigh. "I felt it straight away, and saw the way that you all deferred to him. I couldn't risk him catching me off guard. There's something about him. He would have had the truth out of me, Percy, I know that for sure. I felt that he was pulling my secrets from me, making me want to unburden myself from them."

After a brief pause he asks, hesitantly, "Is your truth really so bad?" I avoid hid gaze and once more say nothing. "Don't blame him; he's completely unaware of what he's capable of," he continues, unperturbed by my silence.

"I know," I repeat. "I don't." Surprisingly, I find that it's true. "He can't help what he is. But…this isn't the right time."

"It's exactly the right time," he says sternly. "You may have saved yourself from having to answer some hard questions, but you've left him open to his fear. He won't be able to do what needs to be done like that." I look down at my hands, knowing that he is right. I feel absurdly ashamed of myself. "Do you still think that he knows something?" he asks.

"I'm certain of it," I say, thinking back to that last lingering look and the carefully placed necklace.

He nods his approval of this and begins to make some kind of potion. I watch him quietly for a while, trying to enjoy this moment of peace before the battle. When he is done, he pours the potion into a vial and hands it to me, along with a large silver amulet. Seeing it gives me a jolt. It's exactly like the one in my dream.

"This is a portal maker," he says, indicating the amulet. "They will have one just like it to take you to Mertice's stronghold. His magician will have one at the stronghold, and Jim will have one with him. When they are linked together they form a channel which transports you between the two amulets. The magic is tricky, and painful to use until you are used to it. Now, because we are being watched, I haven't been able to give you the lessons that I would like to have done. The first time that you use them you will pass out. This," he says, indicating the vial, "will give you enough time to place our amulet in a decent position when you are on the other side. I'll work the magic from this end, and take our people through." I nod, but pass no comment. He waits to see ifI will speak, and when it becomes obvious that I have nothing to say he continues, asking, "This doesn't bother you at all? You have no problem with being at there mercy like this?"

"I'm going to be at their mercy anyway," I answer him quietly. I have absolutely no defence against them. What does it matter about my state of consciousness?"

He considers this for a moment in silence. For a wile now, ever since my last incident with Jim in fact, I hadn't believed that they wanted me for anything in particular. It was all just part of the game, making me believe what they want me to, and slowly getting to Charlie. I hate to think what they have planned for him, but for myself I'm certain that they mean to imprison and probably torture me. As I had pointed out to Percy, it matters little what they do to me, and whether imprisoned or free I can still be of use. My main aim is to keep their minds occupied, especially on the night of the full moon, to give the others a chance to execute the plan.

Percy nods, as if he has heard these thoughts, and once again indicates the amulet and vial. "Use them well. I must be off to create your diversion. I'll give you as much time as possible."

We part at the door, but I follow after him shortly, and wait in the shadows watching the yard until the three of them depart. I waste no time once they are gone, and head off quickly to find Ray. I catch a glimpse of him in the next courtyard, practicing his swordplay. There are others in the yard, but they are out of earshot, and I know it won't take much to get him alone.

He turns as I approach him, and gives me one of his dark looks. "What do you want?" he asks curtly.

"I need you help," I begin. He smirks and begins to turn away from me. "It's Charlie. There's something that I need your help with. May I speak with you alone?" Surprisingly, he nods, and I lead him to Charlie's work room.

"What have you got him into now?" he asks, pouring himself some wine.

"It's not I that you should concern yourself with, but Jim." I pause, waiting, and when the slow smile starts to form on his face, I say, "He works for Mertice." The instant look of surprise I get from him would have been comical under other circumstances.

"How do you know of him?" he asks in a harsh whisper.

"I've uncovered a conspiracy. Mertice intends to drag Charlie back to that hell that you were both buried in, and you along with him. I can't stop that from happening, but there is something that we can do once it has happened.

"You're mad. There's nothing that you can do against him." I have never before seen this man, usually so confident, arrogant even, look so frightened. Who was Mertice, really, that he could inspire so much fear in even the bravest of monsters?

I smile at him, noting how his fear has made him trust my word without even questioning it. Perhaps he even suspects this truth, like I believe that Charlie does. "I have a plan, Ray. Will you at least listen?"

He considers for a moment, and then he nods. "What do you need of me?" he asks. I let out a breath, relieved that I don't need to waste anymore time trying to convince him, and lay down exactly what I need of him.

* * *

After Ray and I had gone our separate ways, I busy myself in the armoury and consider what to do about my predicament. I know that Charlie will find me here at some point, and hopefully sooner rather than later, for time is rapidly running out. Even though I am having second thoughts about Jim and his master's intentions towards me, I still need to do what he expects of me, no matter how much it may hurt me. Also, I know that Percy is right, and that I must lift my spell from Charlie, but I'm worried about the effect that it will have on both of us. If I have already been so captivated by his _magic, _as Percy put it, how exactly is he going to make me feel without that barrier in place? I sigh loudly, rubbing a hand on my forehead. _Damned if I do and damned if I don't, _I think bitterly.

I don't have much longer to wait for Charlie to turn up, but he doesn't enter the room straight away. I can hear him scuffling around outside hesitantly, and he nearly jumps a mile when I open the door. I check the corridor both ways before getting a good look at him.

"What's the matter?" I ask him. His face is pale and he looks furious, or frightened. I can't tell which, but it puts me on my guard immediately.

He ignores my question and strides into the room, stopping on the other side of the rooms centre table. He is breathing heavily and pointedly avoiding my eyes. I stay where I am and watch him closely, not sure where this new attitude had come from, and in no real hurry to find out.

Turning to find that I still haven't moved, he gives me a look. "Shut the door, Loki," he says, exasperation evident in his tone. I do so with a raised eyebrow.

"What's the matter, Charlie?" I ask him again.

He rushes on after taking a deep breath, his words almost overlapping mine, and they turn my stomach to ice. I curse myself for a blind fool, and wonder how I had managed to not see this coming. Of course they would use _this _to come between us. "I've been speaking with Jim," he says, finally meeting my eyes. "He told me why you're here. That you tried to overthrow his home planet, and that you killed an awful lot of people in the process. He said that you were banished for it and….and ended up here….this is your punishment…." Slowly, his words falter. When his eyes widen, I realise that I haven't been able to keep my face as blank of emotion as I would like to have, and also that he hadn't truly believed a word of what he is saying. A bitter laugh is forced from me. "You didn't believe it."

"No, not really," he says quietly, running a hand through his hair. "Not until now anyway."

"Don't look so disappointed Charlie," I say, sounding exasperated myself now. I take advantage of the silence that his shock has left, and choose this moment to release my spell from him. All it takes is the smallest prompting. "Your friend did try to tell you, did they not? Or have you forgotten about that?"

I watch as he fights it, forcing himself to remember, and when he does the spell gently drifts away from his as if it had never been. His expression changes almost immediately, and his eyes flick upwards to meet mine, as hard as stone. "You've done something to me," he accuses me through gritted teeth. "You've been doing it since you got here, haven't you?"

"You would have kept me imprisoned until you had a chance to interrogate me," I say with a dismissive shrug. I can feel it now, that pull coming from him, the one that makes it all but impossible to lie to him. As tough as it is to resist, I try anyway, only to find that the truth is out of my mouth before I can hold it back. "I got the feeling that you may be annoyingly good at what you do, so I merely stopped you from asking your awkward questions, or caring about them."

"How? They took your magic from you."

Again my words come, unbidden and truthful. "I used what I had left, the end dregs of it. I fashioned the spell so that you would continue to do it to yourself, until you realised what was happening. Only then would it break." I look away from him, avoiding his gaze as my tongue runs away with me. "I didn't foresee what doors it would open. I expected to be long gone by now." I clench my jaw and glare at him, willing him to stop his questions. His expression softens briefly before becoming alert, and he glances over at the door. Now that my attention has been brought to it, I can also feel the inhuman presence outside. _Our audience, _I think, and reach for some words to hurt him, to try and convince them once and for all of my intent. Charlie beats me to it, bringing the conversation back to me.

"Why, Loki? Why did you do it? What could possibly have pushed you into doing something like that?" The words are laced with understanding, a far stronger poison than anything I could have created, and his dark eyes are once again warm, inviting me to trust him. Thankfully, the idea of Jim listening in on our conversation seems to have broken his focus, and The Pull - as I have begun to think of it - has lessened, giving me enough space to voice my annoyance, rather than just dully accepting his pity. "I couldn't possibly expect you to understand," I say, upping the intensity of my glare and slowly walking towards him. "The things that I've seen, the things that I've done, the things that I've _been _Charlie. You are far too small to be able to comprehend any of it! And now that you think you know about this particular part, what do you intend to do about it?" I ask him this last sarcastically, before another thought occurs to me. _Jim would have told it all. _"What else did Jim tell you?" I ask, attempting a smirk but instantly regretting the question.

Charlie flounders for a moment, caught of guard, before saying, "He told me that you failed miserably." The words are said a little breathlessly, as if he had tried to stop himself from speaking them but couldn't.

Neither that nor the apology in his eyes stops me from lashing out at him, and I catch him across his cheekbone with the back of my hand. He hadn't seen it coming, and a momentary look of shocked indignation flashes across his face. A mere second later the animal in him takes over and he retaliates rashly, giving me the perfect opportunity to take hold of his hand and pull it up behind his back. I give him a hard shove towards the wall and curl a fist in his hair. "You know nothing of what you speak, boy, _nothing!" _ I growl into his ear. I pull him closer to me. The touch of his flesh causes my anger to abate a little, and I gain control of myself again. With that control comes a need to speak something other than this to him, for this may truly be the last chance that I get. "Just remember that you have managed to bewitch me far more deeply than I ever did you," I whisper, pitching it low so that only he can hear, and I can't help gently caressing the back of his neck before I let him go. I raise my voice again, saying, "Our time together has been an interesting distraction but now I have other matters to attend to. I need to get off this rock and finish what I started."

"How?" he asks, rubbing his arm. A bruise is already spreading on his cheek where I had struck him.

"I always find a way, Charlie," I say, and, having no choice, I leave him there like that, hurt and confused.

Once I am outside I drink down the liquid that Percy had given me, grimacing at the bitter taste of it, and I manage to discard the vial seconds before Jim finds me. I wonder briefly where he had been hiding. He doesn't speak to me, but he beckons me to follow him, and I do so silently. I am lead to a shadowy, disused area of the castle. I am surprised to find no guards with him. He brings out his amulet and placing it carefully against the wall, he steps back to wait for the portal to grow. I find myself trying to bury a growing fear, a fear of the unknown. Charlie had been right; I know nothing of what I am about to face, not really. Looking at Jim, all I see in eyes is hatred, and I expect nothing else from the rest of Mertice's followers. I have to look away from him quickly, lest I loose what courage I have.

When the portal reaches it's full height I don't wait for him to tell me to step through. The instant my skin touches it I feel as if I am being ripped apart, untill I land on my hands and knees on a whole new continent. I have time to throw my own amulet away from me, into the cover of some bushes before I begin to loose consciousness. I see the the grey walls of a keep looming above me and shadowy shapes baring down on me, before the images fade to nothing.


	9. Chapter 9

_So, here's the next instalment. Just to warn you, there will be a little torture in this chapter and the next._

_Enjoy. XX_

* * *

_I find myself worrying in the darkness. I worry about my last dream, and how easily the first part of it could become the truth. I have an awful feeling that I have forgotten something important, or that I have been told something and have either not listened or have misinterpreted what I have heard. It's not surprising then, when my unconsciousness becomes real sleep that my mind turns back to my last conversation with Ray._

_The blackness around me swirls into sepia toned images, and I blink at the sudden change. Before me stands Ray, his back slightly turned to me, and he is pouring himself some wine. "What have you got him into now," he asks, but I ignore him, already scanning the room for Cassie. _

_I see her sitting casually in the corner. There is something strange and insubstantial about her. "What happened to you? Where have you been?" I ask her. She holds a finger to her lips, silently shushing me, and then points to Ray. I turn back to find him looking at me, waiting for my reply. He shows no sign of having seen me talking to someone else. "It's not I that you should concern yourself with, but Jim," I say after a moment, when I remember where this conversation had started. I wait for him to smile, as before. "He works for Mertice."_

"_How do you know of him?" he asks me again in a harsh whisper, his face once more turning pale at the mention of that name. _

"_I've uncovered a conspiracy," I say, moving a chair and taking a seat where I can see both Ray and Cassie. Her presence here is bothering me, but I know I need to continue and analyse this conversation if I am to learn anything from it. "Mertice intends to drag Charlie back to that hell that you were both buried in, and you along with him. I can't stop that from happening, but there is something that we can do once it has happened."_

"_You're mad. There's nothing that you can do against him." Listening to this sentence again I hear the slight tremble of hysteria in his voice._

_I lean forward. "I have a plan Ray. Will you at least listen?" _

_He considers for a moment before nodding. "What do you need of me?"_

"_You're one of my most important pieces," I say, honestly. "Am I right in thinking that you are...?" I pause, searching for the words. "I don't know, pack leader I suppose?"_

_He narrows his eyes. "How did you know?"_

"_It doesn't matter," I say. I rise from the chair and start to pace, thinking hard. "There are many of your kind at this stronghold?"_

"_There'll be hundreds."_

"_Good," I say, and I allow myself to smile a little. "Come the full moon, we're going to seal the castle, and then we're going to let them all out."_

_He stares at me, uncomprehending. "It'll be chaos," he says after some thought._

"_Yes, but at least with you there to guide them, we can turn it into organized chaos," I reply, but he is already shaking his head._

"_No, Loki. I may be the leader of our small band here, but it'll be very different there. There'll be others, far stronger that I am."_

"_You'll know them in their human forms?"_

_"Yes, I will." I nod but say no more. When he sees that I don't mean to continue, he says, "You're talking about letting them out. How are you going to get us in there with them?"_

_"I said that the vampires intend to drag you back there. I want you to let them." I hold up a hand, stopping him from interrupting me. "It's important, Ray. Fight them by all means, make it look real, but go with them you must. Charlie and I will not be far behind. We all have our parts to play, and we must play them well, for we are walking into incredible danger."_

_"I know it," he says quietly. "But there'll be far more danger for you than for us."_

_I shrug the comment away. "As long as I achieve my aim it matters not. I need to keep their minds on me, and away from you and others that I will bring into play. Through Percy I have sent word to the inspector at Kaelyn, requesting the help of his deputy, Roxbury." _

_"You've got Roxbury into this?" he interrupts, incredulous. "The man doesn't have the sense that the gods gave a goose. Half of Kaelyn must know of your plan by now!" _

"_I don't believe that Roxbury is quite as witless as you think," I answer. "Just in case though, I have had Percy make it very clear in his letter to Inspector Aldridge how important it is for Roxbury to give nothing away. I'm well aware of the risk. Now, I have a map which Charlie has drawn for me, showing an interesting network of paths cut into the castle walls."_

_"I remember them well," he says, dryly. "We did use them to escape after all." _

"_Do you think that they're still in use?"_

"_I doubt it. Knowing them they would have had them blocked up, to make sure that no one tried to escape again. You want to use them?"_

"_No, I was only thinking to minimise their escape routes. So much of this relies on the element of surprise and on you taking them down quickly before they find ways to elude you."_

"_Trust me, once we're transformed, there won't be many places that they'll be able to hide from us. If those tunnels are still open and they do decide to use them, then they'll be surprisingly easy for us to get to, and if they can't get out the other end…" he leaves the sentence hanging. _They would be perfect, _I think. "You said that you have a way of sealing the castle?" he asks._

"_This is where Percy comes into it. He assures me that magic will do it, and if he joins his magical strength with that of his student, Freya, there'll be nothing that the vampires can do to break it. Something to do with them being dead, apparently." He smiles a little at that and then we sit in silence for a time. "Why is it, do you think, so important to them to have you back now?" I ask him. "After all these years, what's changed? They could have come for you any time, but instead they chose only to put a spy amongst you, and otherwise leave you be."_

_"I don't know. We expected it for years after we ruined their plans." The comment is made offhand, he barely thinks about it, but it captures me._

_"Their plans? They kept you for more than what they used you for?"_

_"Well, not me, but Charlie, certainly. It's one of the reasons we were so desperate to get out. We could feel that they were building up to something."_

_"You didn't find out what they wanted though?" _

_He shakes his head, as I had expected. "Of course not. Not even Charlie knew."_

_"I can only assume that they are ready to show us what they intended to do back then," I say quietly. Watching this conversation again, I find myself no less troubled than I had been the first time at the turn it had suddenly taken. _I hope that we can get this over with quickly, for whatever they plan can't bode well for any of us, _I think to myself_.

"_Do you have a way of making sure that Charlie can't get to us? I mean, you have seen him in his werewolf form, right?" he asks, breaking my train of thought._

"_Yes, I have," I sigh. "He's a monster even by werewolf standards. He told me that he is a danger to others of his kind. He'll be isolated, I promise you." I find that I have been standing with my back to him, gazing out of the window without seeing anything, and I turn back to him now. "Get to the pack leaders. Tell them what we need of them. You must try and contain the violence as much as possible."_

"_You can't control the beast—" he begins. _

"_But you can influence it," I say, cutting him off. "Charlie told me as much. I need you to do what you can, Ray."_

"_I will," he says quietly._

"_It's probably best for you to leave now; I don't know how long Percy can stall our shadow. I mustn't let him see you talking to me." He nods and turns away but I stop him from leaving with a quietly asked question. "Why have you agreed to this? Apart from your loyalty to Charlie, of course."_

"_I hardly have a choice do I? I'd rather go in there with some kind of plan, even if it is crazy."_

"_You don't think that we can win?"_

_He shrugs. "Only one way to find out." With that he drinks down the last of his wine and leaves me on my own with Cassie._

"_You're Charlie's sister," I say without looking at her._

"_Yes," she says from beside me. "Although that seems a lot less important to you now that you know that he's not going back there for me." She places her cold hand over mine. "I died, Loki, but he doesn't know that I didn't move on."_

"_Are you hoping that I can free you?"_

"_I'm hoping that you can free him. I'll be gone when it's my time and there's nothing that you can do to hurry it up."_

_I turn to face her then, suddenly chilled. "What have I missed? What have I forgotten? Watching this again hasn't helped me. I'm still not seeing it." _

"_You missed yourself. You missed out planning you own escape." Her eyes widen, and her grip on my hand tightens, although I can barely feel it. "Unless you don't mean too. Oh, Loki, you better be ready to do something completely crazy if you mean to stay there after the wolves have transformed!"_

"_Such as…?" I ask her, but before she can reply I'm…._

…Suddenly awake.

"Oh, no. It's too soon," I say aloud, and then groan as a sharp pain lances across my shoulders.

"Hey," a muffled voice whispers, and I open my eyes.

I find myself in a small cell lit dimly by sunlight coming through an arrow slit high up on one wall. I try to shift position but my movement is hindered by a short chain attached to the wall. The other end is looped through large manacles around my wrists. A slumped figure sits in shadow across from me.

"Hey," it says again. "My god, I thought you would never wake."

The figure moves into the light and I recognize him instantly. "Roxbury," I say. I have to wonder a little at my weakness for feeling guilt at his presence here, and I laugh the feeling away before it can set in too deeply.

He jumps a little at the harsh, echoing sound. "You find this amusing?" he asks.

"No, I really don't," I answer, still chuckling, and he frowns at me in confusion. I try to sit up a bit again and my laughter is cut off abruptly as more pain knifes its way into my shoulders. I'm guessing that they had been less that careful when putting me in here, and I move my limbs experimentally. There is a lot of pain but thankfully nothing seems to be broken.

"They kind of threw you down the stairs," Roxbury says, as if reading my thoughts. I follow his gaze to a short flight of stairs leading to the cell door.

Just then shadows appear beyond the bars, and a key is rattled in the lock. Roxbury cowers back against the wall, a small sound of fear escaping him. I watch as Jim, followed by four guards, descends to the floor of the cell.

"Take that away," he orders, looking disdainfully at Roxbury. When two of the guards bend to do his bidding he turns his attention to me.

"We have something to show you, before Mertice offers you his hospitality," he says. "We need to know where you stand."

"Of course." I hold up my bound wrists so that he can free me and try to ignore Roxbury's terrified screams as they drag him into the corridor.

He is nowhere to be seen by the time they take me from the cell, although I can still hear him, and I am thankful for the slow pace that Jim sets as my captors lead me through what seems like a never ending network of corridors. Cells line the way, and as we pass by, the occupants come forward to watch. I keep a close eye on the route that we are taking, trying to memorize it, and hoping to find out where they are keeping Ray. I catch a glimpse of him in a cell roughly a hundred yards from where I had been held. He is bound in the same way that I had been, and he glowers at Jim as we pass.

Eventually we come to a spiral staircase, and they follow me down for a long while, into yet another corridor lined with cells. The atmosphere is very different down here, the cell doors are solid rather than barred, and the sounds coming from within them send shivers down my spine. I try to convince myself that it's not fear that I am feeling, but I know that something truly awful is looming ahead of me, and there won't be a thing that I can do to prevent it from happening.

The corridor soon opens out into a vaulted room. On the wall opposite us are two guarded doors, one of which is opened as we approach. Beyond it lies another, very small, room, into which I am pushed roughly. I turn just in time to see Jim's mocking smile before heavy door is closed behind me. When he is gone, I turn my attention to my surroundings. Two of the room's walls are made of stone, two of thick iron bars. Through the bars to my right I see Roxbury, cowering in the corner of his own room. He crawls forward when he sees me.

"You need to help me, Loki, please," he begs. I ignore him; turning my attention instead to the large arena that lies beyond the bars before me. The stone floor is pitted and scarred, and the thick stone walls rise up into darkness. High above us are the first of four galleries, and I can see that they are all packed with watching faces.

"What's going on here, Roxbury?" I ask, but he just shakes his head, too frightened now even to speak.

Within the arena and off to one side I hear a gate being opened. A moment later, Charlie is dragged into my line of vision and made to kneel in the centre of the arena. He cooperates without a fight, and my heart lurches to see him give in so easily. One of the vampires surrounding him holds something in his hand. From here it looks like a needle and syringe. _What is this?_ I think.

I have my answer soon enough when the door to Roxbury's cell is opened and he is set upon by two more guards, one of whom is brandishing his own needle. He tries to fend them off, unsuccessfully, and the needle is plunged into his neck. The guards leave rather quickly after that. For a few seconds Roxbury lies still, perhaps in shock, perhaps because he knows what is about to happen to him. And then, in front of my shocked eyes, the change starts to take him over. Somehow, it's the last thing that I had expected, and judging by the look on Charlie's face, it's not what he had expected either.

Charlie had explained to me the rules of their kind: the change only happened at the full moon. That was still two nights away. _What possible reason could Mertice have for wishing these creatures to turn at his will?_ I think. _Is it simply for torture purposes, or is there a more sinister reason?_

These thoughts are quickly interrupted as Roxbury begins to scream. I don't realize that I had been retreating from him until my back touches cold stone, but I am caught, fascinated by the scene in front of me, and I can't seem to drag my eyes away. He screams again as his clothes tear, and I see that the skin underneath is also tearing. Hair bursts forth from the rifts, and his limbs begin to stretch and bend into unnatural angles. The noises coming from his throat soon turn guttural and harsh.

From the corner of my eye I see Charlie begin to fight his captors. I'm finally able to turn my eyes from the horror of Roxbury's transformation and instead watch Charlie's sudden and vicious attack. I see now why he had been playing at being submissive. The vampires are taken aback slightly, giving him the chance to gain some ground on them, then he turns suddenly to press the attack, throwing them off guard again. He knows that he has no way to beat them, that there is no way to escape them now, and no way to avoid the fate that is snapping at his heels, but he fights them anyway. One of the vampires grows tired of the game and stops the next attack with a brutal blow to Charlie's face that makes me flinch, and I hear his nose break from here. They quickly overpower him, stick him with the needle and retreat. After a pause, he also begins to transform.

Hearing a low growl next to me, and I look over to find the other now fully turned. It's a hideous beast that now occupies the cell; almost twice the size of a man, all long legs, coarse brown fur, and stubby muzzle. His lips are pulled back, bearing rows of sharp teeth, and the four inch talons that tip his paws click on the stone impatiently. He stares at me hungrily, until the whole wall of bars in front of him lift up like a portcullis. It would be the perfect opportunity for him to attack, seeing as Charlie is still only half way through the change, but, sensing the mounting threat that hasn't escaped even me, he hesitates on the threshold. It doesn't take him long to realize that he has missed an important chance, and he tries to make up for it by rushing into action. To my surprise, I find that Charlie is ready for him now. He had made barely any noise throughout his transformation, and it has happened far quicker than Roxbury's had, almost as if he has greater control of it. Also he is bigger than Roxbury. Much, much bigger.

In the end the fight takes less than a minute. They circle one another for a while. Roxbury is constantly the one to move forward, but quickly he retreats, too frightened to actually go for the throat that Charlie has left open for him. Eventually though, Charlie's menacing calm makes him begin to panic, and he makes a desperate, clumsy swipe at him. Charlie opens himself to the attack, luring him in, even letting him draw blood. With him so close Charlie chooses this moment to move. Almost too quickly for me to see, he sets his teeth and claws into him, and practically tears him in half.

Moments after I witness this, they come to drag me in front of Mertice. I hardly notice the route that we take. I find that all of my planning is being washed away in a sudden and violent wave of anger. I no longer care about being careful, or playing the game, and it doesn't even occur to me that Mertice might decide to kill me outright for my insolence if I refuse him anything. All I can think of is Charlie, and what the death of Roxbury will do to him. _How dare he do this, _I think, _how dare he!_

I am pulled into a large, windowless, candle lit room and made to kneel before a cluttered desk. The first thing I notice, before I even see Mertice sitting on a throne atop a dais, is a large empty vial just in front of me on the desk. The only chink in my plan was figuring out how to smuggle the werewolf blood that I will need into the castle. I couldn't bring it with me, seeing as I knew they would search me, so I hoped to find a way of gaining it while I was here. This vial would be perfect, and I need to find an opportunity to take it, but for now I raise my eyes to meet those of Mertice. I see that they are pale, like everything else about him. We stay staring at each other for so long that I begin to grow incredibly uncomfortable, but I refuse to drop my eyes. After what feels like an age, he stirs. "I confess myself very disappointed in you," he says slowly. His voice is gravelly, and far deeper than I had expected. "After all I have heard of you, I honestly expected more." He rises from the throne, descends the dais, and walks behind me. From the corner of my eye I see that his back is turned to me, and he is pouring himself something. Quickly, I snatch up the vial, and I have it hidden within my clothing before he turns back.

"You knew of my current state," I say quietly.

"Yes, and I am not referring to that. You do still have your wits after all. I am talking about you, fraternizing with that beast. I expected that you, of all people, would be able to resist him, yet you let yourself be so easily corrupted." I give a contemptuous snort at the very idea of Charlie corrupting _me_, but before I can reply he says, "We need your assistance with something, Loki."

This causes me to actually laugh aloud. "And what?" I ask. "You thought that showing me your new trick would make me wish to leap to your aid? After what you just did to Charlie, nothing could be further from the truth."

"I showed you that so that you know what is waiting for you should you refuse me. We haven't yet found out what the potion does to mortals. Maybe you can help us find out. I shall give you some time to think on it."

At some hidden signal, Jim comes with the guards to drag me to yet another cell. Worryingly, it's one of the ones with a solid door. This knowledge puts me on my guard immediately, and certainly saves my life, for when they push me into the room, a sinewy, furry arm reaches for me, the talons extended, intending to open my throat. With a startled cry, I throw myself against the opposite wall and put my arm up. The claws rake the sleeve of my jacket and shirt, turning them to ribbons, but they don't reach my skin. I sit down heavily, and I hear Jim laugh as the door slams behind me. I look up, wondering why I haven't yet been removed of my head, and find that I now appear to be in some kind of corridor, with doors at either end. Before me is yet another cage, occupied by Charlie's massive bulk. He stalks around in a circle, his tail swishing, and then he throws himself towards me once more. I flinch back as he reaches for me. The claws stop a mere foot away from me, and he quickly removes his arm in order to circle again and have another try.

"Oh, well, this is just wonderful," I say aloud. I crawl into the corner, pull my knees up to my chest, and generally try to make myself smaller. He growls at the sound of my voice. We stay that way for what feels like a very long time, although it's probably no more than two hours. My legs have gone numb, and I'm just beginning to work out how to move them without getting them ripped off, when his mood changes. This I have seen before and I know that it's safe to move now; he won't try and attack me during the re-transformation. Soon he is back to himself, and he lies on his back for a while, breathing hard. I can see that the bruise that I had given him is gone, and his nose is once again whole and unbroken, but the wound that Roxbury has given him is open, and bleeding. Suddenly, I see how he acquired his scars. I crawl over to the bars.

He catches the movement and turns his head. "Loki?" he asks in a cracked voice.

"Come here," I order him. He scuttles over to me with a groan of pain, and a fresh run of blood issues from his wound. I reach out to him, but stop with my hand inches from his skin, suddenly afraid that, after all that had passed between us, he will spurn my touch.

He looks up at me almost shyly. "I won't bite, you know," he says, mistaking my hesitancy. I smile wryly at that and lay my hand on him. He begins to shake violently then, and his skin beneath my hand is clammy. I take off my torn jacket and wrestle him into it, taking care not to lay it over the wound.

"I'm not cold," he complains, his teeth chattering. "Whatever they've done to me…..it burns."

"You need to wear it, Charlie," I say gently. I pull out the vial and remove the stopper. "There's something that I need to do. I'm sorry for this." He draws in a pained breath through his teeth as I hold the vial against his wound. I keep it there for more time than he is comfortable with, making sure to fill it. After I have replaced it carefully within my clothing, I tear off a swatch of cloth from my sleeve and press it to the scratches.

He has a faraway look in his eyes now, and I'm just begging to hope that, perhaps, he doesn't recall the events that had just occurred, when his eyes clear and he says, "Oh, gods. I did for Roxbury."

"You had no choice, my sweet. It wasn't your fault." The endearment brings a tiny smile to his lips, but it is quickly wiped away by fresh tremors.

"It was Jim," he says when the fit has passed.

"What was Jim?"

"He killed those women, back at Arber." He gives a breathy, slightly hysterical laugh, and then quiets when he sees my face. "You knew."

"I guessed, after he approached me. It doesn't matter now. He's about to be punished for his crime. They all are."

He rolls his eyes at me. "I'm glad you're so confident," he says, and then he turns his head, hearing something. "They're coming back for you." I take hold of his hand and press it to the cloth, making sure that he holds it tightly. As I pull my hand away he grabs hold of my wrist, and snarls, "Just remember, you have to give in to it."

I am startled by his sudden ferocity, but it's too late for me to ask him what he means by that, for I can hear them myself now, just outside the door. I squeeze his hand briefly before letting him go. The moment I step back he bends double with a groan of pain. It appears that the change is taking him over again, but I know that there is nothing I can do, so I turn instead to the door and wait patiently for my own fate.


	10. Chapter 10

_ Be warned, there is more torture to come in this chapter. _

_One thing we know about Loki though is that he is willing to do pretty much anything to get what he wants, and in this chapter he learns a few lessons along the way. _

_Enjoy Xx_

* * *

Charlie had been right about Mertice's potion. Whatever it is, it _does_ burn.

I grit my teeth against the pain, and really, in my current position, dangling from my shackled wrists with my feet inches from the floor, it's the only defense I have against it. The fire consumes me, burning from the point of injection right through to my extremities. When it reaches the centre of my chest, the place where my new magic has grown in me, it becomes napalm, consuming everything and leaving only emptiness and agony in its wake. My dislocated shoulder howls. My broken ribs feel like they will simply burst apart. Distantly, I hear my own screams echoing in the cavernous room as I am torn to shreds. I close my eyes briefly. When I open them again I find myself lying on the cold stone floor with my head spinning and my whole body aching.

"We have to be careful," a deep voice says from somewhere in the gloom of the vault. I recognize it as Mertice's. "It's affecting his memory."

Suddenly I get an image of myself, face to face with him as he explains the careful way in which this room has been designed. It is situated directly below the majority of the cells, so that the inmates above can hear every scream you make. It keeps them compliant, he says, if they know what's waiting for them should they disobey.

"Maybe we were wrong. He's too weak to take it," Jim answers.

I see Jim, with a look of terrible pleasure on his face, gently pressing the toe of his boot to my side, only stopping when he hears the crack- the sound of three of my ribs breaking- and the scream that comes after. These memories assault me over and over again, until I remember why I had passed out moments before. _The injection, _I think. _That damned injection._

"I'm not wrong, Jim," Mertice murmurs. "Just give it time."

"We don't have time. The full moon is only hours―"

"We have time," Mertice interrupts sharply, brooking no argument.

At the mention of the full moon I remember why I am here, and I begin to panic. I reach for the vial of Charlie's blood, and breathe a small sigh of relief to find it still there. After the beating that they have given me, I fully expected it to be broken, or taken, but now, knowing that it's safe, I move my mind onto the game at hand. "What do you want from me?" I croak, playing for more time. I had intended my voice to be demanding, but the pathetic quality of the question brings their attention to me more effectively than if I had shouted. I sound as if I am beginning to crack.

"Ah, so you're back then," Mertice says, squatting down beside me.

"Tell me, is it the Tesseract?" My voice hitches on the last word, unintentional but convincing all the same. "Is that what you want?"

He laughs a little and smiles wickedly. "Even if I dared to aim so high, you've rather spoiled that idea for everyone now, haven't you? Besides, I have my own plan, one that's guaranteed to work."

"You sound very sure of that," I say, leading him into telling me. It's not that I'm interested- I'm really not, and after tonight, it won't matter what he wants- it's just a way to stall the inevitable. By now I can see Jim hovering behind Mertice, just itching to inject me once more with their poison, and I feel that I need a moment to stop my heart from racing before they make me endure the fire again. "What has all this to do with me?"

"To start with this had nothing to do with you. You just turned up, in the right place at the right time, that's all. Knowing who you are, I might even have offered you a way off this world if Charlie hadn't taken you as his lover, but now….well, you were sent here as punishment, no? This one seems fitting."

The words "off of this world" echo in my head. Hadn't Charlie told me that there was no way off? I try hard to remember, but through the haze of pain, nothing comes to me. "You said that you needed my help," I say, trying to push away the thought that Charlie may have lied to me.

"You misunderstood me," he says with fake sympathy. "This _is_ what I need your help with. I don't know what this potion does to mortals, and I need to find out."

"There are plenty of other mortals for you to experiment on," I say. I gaze into those pale blue eyes, so lifeless, and so completely devoid of mercy. Fear knots my stomach as I finally understand him. I had been so sure that they were torturing me because they wanted something from me that I hadn't even considered the fact that they may have been doing it simply because they could. "Leave me be," I say without hope.

"I need a mortal with magic, and I haven't found a single person on this planet with a magical potential to match yours." I frown, not sure that I have heard him correctly. His smile widens and he says, "It's just another thing to add to the list of things that you haven't been told. They very carefully didn't tell you that if you had stopped trying to use your magic as a weapon, and let it become part of you, you could have made the things that Percy is capable of look like cheap circus tricks. You have as much power now as you had before. It just works differently on this world." He stands and steps back from me.

The chain above me is pulled taut again, and I can't hold back the words that escape me. "Please, don't," I beg. I try to fight back but it's impossible, and I have no choice but to follow the chain upwards, crying out as my shoulder is jarred.

"Really, I should thank you before we go any further," he says once I am secured. "All this would have taken so much longer if it hadn't been for you. Charlie would have worked it out. He would have run, again, and it would have taken us months to track him down. But you made him stay. You even managed to convince him―," here he laughs again, as if he can not quite believe what he is about to say, "―that he stood the slightest chance of winning against us. And single handedly, I might add, because he wasn't about to let you join him, was he?" He watches me sway on the end of the chain for a moment before he continues. "It took you a while, but eventually you did manage to lie to him."

My heart skips a beat. Have they bought into the game, or am I now being played myself? There is no way to tell. "He lied to himself," I say, as if his words have meant nothing to me. "It's what he wanted to believe. I just helped him along a little."

"Like Jim said, you do know how to play the cruel edge." Mertice retreats and Jim comes forward with the needle.

_I'm not the only one, _I think, before I feel it slide into my flesh.

* * *

The fire burns far hotter this time, and it's obvious to me that they have decided to up the dose. Time is suspended, and I have no idea how long I am held like this, burning in the fires of hell. It seems to me, though, that there is another step to be taken, yet another level of torture, and in the moments before it ignites my magic, I realize how afraid I am. I have no protection, no last minute trick, and no idea of what to do. I am about to be torn apart and there is nothing I can do to prevent it.

With a jolt I realize that tearing me apart is exactly what this concoction _is_ trying to do, but not in the way I think. I set my mind to work, trying my best to ignore the pain. What if I can use it somehow? I had seen what it had done to Charlie and Roxbury. What if I can use it to turn me into something else, stronger than I am now? It's not something I will do lightly, having witnessed the change first hand, but then the circumstances are extreme. Cassie's voice comes floating from my memory: _"__Oh, Loki, you better be ready to do something completely crazy if you mean to stay there after the wolves have__ transformed.__"_I think I might know what she meant now, and I see, finally, how I am to survive this. But how am I to make it work? Mertice had given me the clue that I need, telling me to let the magic _become part of me,_ and Charlie had said something similar: _you have to give in to it. _With Charlie's mind now free to think as it did before I put my last spell on him, had he foreseen this? Were these cryptic words the only advice he could give to me in the time we had, knowing what they intended to do?

There is only one way to find out, and seeing as it is the only plan I am likely to come up with before this poison kills me, I force myself to relax. I try to separate the two things: The potion, the fire raging inside me, and the magic, something as much a part of me as my blood or hair or bones. It's difficult, seeing as the two are now melded together, and are busy trying to snuff out all thought with immense pain, but I put all my effort into it, and, far sooner than I expected, I begin to feel a change. I am so shocked by it that I almost ruin the whole thing, letting my concentration slip just a fraction, but then I re-double my efforts. The pain doesn't lessen, but it does change, becoming something more natural, feeling, almost, like something that belongs within me.

Later, I will swear that in the few seconds before the potion let me go, I felt magic and potion become truly separate, could feel the bones in my fingers begin to rearrange themselves, and that my senses became sharper, blinding me with their momentary brilliance. For now though, the lights and fire begin to fade, and I hang limp from the shackles, weak after expending so much energy. I can see Jim wandering around restlessly, murmuring about how close to the full moon we now are, and it seems that time has indeed passed, more than I could have hoped for.

Mertice plants himself in my line of vision, all the better to show me the look of smug satisfaction now marring his delicate features. "Well now," he croons, totally disregarding Jim's worried words. "That's more like it."

The look he gives me, like I was a dog who had finally performed a long practiced trick well, causes something animal to rise up in me, and without meaning to I spit directly in his face. He doesn't flinch, but that proud look turns into disappointment, as if he hadn't truly expected anything else from me after all. Jim comes forward, fists raised, ready to stand up for his master. He manages to land one blow – to my broken ribs, of course – before Mertice stops him.

"Let him down and leave him here for now. You come back for him later. I want him to witness our plan come to fruition."

Some unseen person lets loose the chain, and not gently. I crash to the flagstones, and there lie gasping like a hooked fish as the sound of their footsteps fade. Soon enough though, I manage to regain my composure, and I allow myself a small, satisfied smile. He wants to show me his plan, but an egotistical man like Mertice would want to explain it first, and revel in his own importance. He would send Jim away, of that I am certain, for what harm could I possibly cause him, weak mortal that I am. I might get the chance to use Charlie's blood, and if I do, I might also get the chance to use the bracelet of binding.

I feel for the vial again, just for my peace of mind. Once I am sure of the cool glass beneath my fingers, I make a pass with my right hand over my upper forearm in the way that Percy had shown me. The bracelet materializes, quickly becoming a solid and reassuring band. I had never given it back to Charlie after he had tossed it to me at the murderers cave, and he had never asked me to return it. In one of our private lessons I had had Percy show me its workings, never truly believing that I would get the chance to use it, but wanting to take it with me nevertheless. Freed from my anxiety somewhat, I allow myself to slip into and exhausted sleep, knowing that I need to regain some of my strength in order to face what is to come. My last thought is, as always now, of Charlie, and I imagine that I can feel his warmth pressed into my back and his strong arms around me, holding me safe while I dream.

* * *

I am kicked into wakefulness by Jim, who obviously intends to take out his frustration on me in any way he can now that Mertice isn't here to stop him. I curl into a ball, trying to protect myself from the worst of it, but, using the chain, he drags me up onto my knees, only to then send me sprawling with a terrific back handed blow to my face. I watch in mild fascination as the blood now gushing from my nose patters down between my splayed hands. He turns me over, pulls me up by my shirt slightly and leans down until we are face to face.

"I really don't see what's so fucking special about you," he snarls.

"Jealous are we," I ask, mockingly, and regret it an instant later as I realize, too late, what he is about to do. He lets go of me, takes a step back, and then with all his might, he stamps down onto my left hand. The pain is incredible, almost causing me to pass out again, but he shakes me awake before I can retreat into unconsciousness.

"I don't think so," he says. "He wants words with you."

I am dragged once more through the dim maze that makes up the inside of the castle. Jim takes every opportunity to hurt me along the way, until we reach Mertice's throne room where, quite theatrically, I stumble and fall to my knees upon entering, never taking my eyes from Mertice. I watch him take in my bloodied face and shirt, the camber of my dislocated left shoulder, and my mangled hand held up protectively to my chest.

No emotion crosses his face but he says, "Leave us," to Jim in a way that suggests that he strongly disapproves of what he has done.

"But―" he begins.

"Don't question me. Leave us."

I can tell Jim wants to argue, but for now he thinks better of it. Somehow, I find the strength to smile up at him, seeing now how he has secured his master's fate by beating me black and blue. He sneers back at me and then does as he is bid, leaving me on my own with Mertice. I can feel my pulse quicken now, and excitement begins to build in me, although I'm careful not to show it. I struggle to my feet and limp my way over to the desk in the middle of the room. It has been cleared of the myriad bottles and papers that had covered it when I was last here. Now, in its centre sits a single bottle of potion, the only weapon that I will now be able to use with any efficiency. _I hope._

"Have you figured it out yet?" he asks, bringing my attention back to him. "Do you know what I'm planning?"

"Not entirely," I answer. "Although I'm sure that it has something to do with world domination."

He laughs and once more descends the dais, just like he had before. He places the goblet of wine he had been holding on the desk as he passes, and says, "Something like that. I want to show you something before we continue."

I barely hear this last sentence as I stare at the goblet with reverence. I move closer and see that it contains blood, not wine. I am dumbfounded. _Is it really going to be this easy? _I check over my shoulder and see that he has his back to me. Easy or not, I have to take this opportunity, for I won't get another like it. I awkwardly take out the vial and empty its contents into the goblet, my heart in my mouth all the time, and I have it hidden away again before I hear him return. He moves the goblet, places a map in front of me, and then downs the blood in one go. I stare at him, wondering if this is a dream. He stares back for a moment before he starts to cough, his hand going to his mouth, blood seeping between his fingers. The goblet crashes to the floor. His eyes narrow accusingly and he makes a swipe at me, but I am already out of reach. I manage to lock and bolt the door before I hear Jim start to shout on the other side of it. Painfully, I move a large lump of wood into the cradles that are designed to hold it. They will need a battering ram to get through here now, and I head slowly back to Mertice, knowing that we won't be disturbed for a while yet.

He is bent double over the table. His blood stains the map, making it illegible, and it spreads over the sides of the table to drip onto the floor. He has become weak, weak enough for me to maneuver, and with my good arm I lead him over to the dais. He trips up the step, landing directly on the throne, and his eyes go to the bracelet that I hadn't bothered to hide again, widening when they recognize what it is. Quickly, I slide it from my arm. He tries to struggle, knowing what I am about to do, but he is too slow to remove the hand that is clutching feebly at the arm of his gaudy chair. I breathe magic onto the copper, feeling it grow warm in my hand, and then place it over his wrist, speaking the words of binding in my mind as Percy had taught me to.

"Percy never lied to me about my magic, Mertice," I say when it is done. "I know exactly what I am capable of."

"Damn you!" he screams at me, and then he laughs. "What now, hmm? What more can you do to me. You're weak, pathetic! You don't have the discipline to end this."

There are no windows in this room, and I have no way of telling how close the full moon is, but there is a certain feeling of anticipation in the air, and I judge that I don't have long. I lean on the table and stare at him, bleeding on the throne, the visual symbol of his power. I realize how disgusting it is, somehow, and how pointless. He had spent centuries sitting there, believing in his own strength and the strength of his people, while the world around him grew and became strong itself. If he had bothered to step outside, even for a moment, or if he had paid any real attention to his captives, he would have seen their strength, and he would have thought twice about everything he was doing.

I had thought about rehearsing a speech, some kind of triumphant rhetoric for him if we ever came to the place where we are now, but looking at him, I really only have one thing to say, and it is more for me than him, a reminder, so that I never forget. "Complacency will get you killed."

He laughs his derision. "You would know all about complacency wouldn't you? What do you hope to achieve here. They'll be through that door shortly, and then you'll wish you never bothered!"

I can hear the angry shouts on the other side of the door, and slowly I begin to count under my breath. When I reach ten the anger turns to surprise and then fear. Clearly, I hear Jim say to no one in particular, "Christ, how did they get out?" and I allow myself a slow smile.

Mertice looks panicked now, confused. "What have you done?" he whispers. I don't deign to answer. Instead I pick up the vial from the table, and slowly uncork it with my thumb, letting the glass stopper smash on the floor. He makes another attempt at making me stop, saying loudly, "It'll kill you, you know that."

My smile now has turned into a grin. "You don't believe that," I say. I salute him with the glass before I drink down the clear, foul liquid, never taking my eyes from his as I do so.

Suddenly, I drop the vial on the stones beneath me, where it shatters beside the stopper, and I fall to my knees, screaming as I am overcome.


End file.
